


My heart beats louder than war drums

by stringingwords



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clarke Griffin/Lexa - Freeform, Clarke staging an insurgence, Clexa, F/F, Fix-It, Gay, Headcanon, Set in Arkadia, and there might be smut, canonverse, did i mention gay?, grounders, how could there not be?, no AI, ok yeah there's smut, some sappy gay fluff if you can wait long enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-16 00:42:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7245361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stringingwords/pseuds/stringingwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 3x07 with Lexa alive and well. Clarke returns to Arkadia to stage an uprising against Pike and hopefully restore peace. No AI plot or demonizing of grounders. No lesbians were killed in the writing of this fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wish you were here

**Author's Note:**

> This is my headcanon for what would've happened after 3x07 if the showrunners hadn't screwed things up. I've already written the whole thing so I'll update pretty regularly as I check over it. Clarke and Lexa are necessarily separated for stretches, but I think their meetings make up for it. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Clarke steps hurriedly out of the tower with her guard in tow and swings into the saddle next to Octavia.

'You sure took your time!' she remarks caustically. 

But one look at Clarke's face tells her not to push it and they begin to silently wind their way out of Polis. The evening sights and smells wash over them; the merchants and traders packing up their goods; the smell of spices and metal mixing with that of roasting meat from various fires around the town. Clarke breathes it in, already nostalgic of its bustling activity. She keeps her gaze hard and determined as they are met with open stares; some filled with the familiar awe that accompanies the legendary Wanheda, but there is more hostility and thinly-veiled hatred today, and she is thankful for the guards Lexa sent to accompany them to the gate.

Lexa!

There is a dull thud in her chest and she bites her lip to keep it from trembling. No time for that now.

They reach the gates and she turns to the guards, a curt nod conveying her gratitude and farewell. They nod back and the gates swing shut.

So that's that.

They kick their horses into a trot and head towards the forest.

There is nothing now but her thoughts, and all at once they flood Clarke's mind, pulling at her stomach as she tries to sort through them.

Lexa. Not an hour ago she was in her bed; green eyes alight with a happiness she had never seen in them before. Skin against skin, fingers entwined, and the whirlwind of feelings she could not describe as she had nothing to compare them to. She had finally dragged herself away as the sun began to set, slowly dressing as she felt Lexa's happiness sink again into melancholy. 

It would be so easy to stay! Her people didn't want her anyway. Everything she did to try and help them was met with resistance. Fuck, they had ruined everything, put the coalition in danger, put Lexa in danger. But Octavia's words echoed in her head and she knew that, whether she liked it or not, she was their best hope. She couldn't walk away from that. 

She sat on the bed to lace up her boots and Lexa's foot nudged at her waist, pulling her closer. Clarke grew soft at the touch and let herself momentarily revel in the shiver of joy that coursed through her.

Then she was done and blue eyes rose to meet the green. Clarke saw her own feelings reflected back in them, the yearning to ask her to stay, the weight of duty that kept her silent. 

When her lips finally did part it was only to say, 'Be careful, Clarke.'

And the sound of her name, soft and reverent on those lips, almost shattered her resolve. But she cracked a broken smile and said, 'Oh, I have no intention of dying.'

Which elicited a half-stifled smirk. Lexa once more proffered her arm and she clasped it.

'May we meet again.'

Clarke had taken it and leaned in to kiss her.

'And again! And again! And again!' she replied between kisses, until they were both grinning despite themselves.

Lexa had reached up to gently caress her face, as if etching it into her memory. Clarke could still feel the ghost of her fingers on her skin.

'You can come back, you know.'

She’s jolted back to the present by Octavia's observation. How much of her reverie had been written on her face.

'I mean, that's what we're going there for, right. Once this mess gets sorted out we can choose our own home. I for one won't be choosing Arkadia.' 

Clarke meets her gaze, taking comfort in her understanding.

'Not after what they did to Lincoln.'

'What do you mean?'

'They locked him up. He was just trying to protect an injured grounder who had come to us for help. They're all locked up. Just like I'll be the minute I set foot in camp.'

'You? But Bellamy...'

'Bellamy's one of them. He led the attack on Semet’s village. They wanted their land for farming. For fucking farming! He was gonna murder them too. Except I warned them and they set a trap. Course I then had to warn Bellamy too so now I'm a certified traitor to both sides in this shitstorm.'

'He wouldn't!'

'He did. He's Pike's fucking lackey. He'll lock me up in a heartbeat.'

'Then we need a plan.'

The gallop of hooves makes them both spin around. A lone rider is making for them at full speed and Clarke touches her gun.

'Indra!' Octavia calls with a thrill of relief.

'C'mon, Skai girls,' she replies barely slowing. 'We'll never make it to the blockade before dawn at this pace.' 

They spur their horses to a gallop and the thrill of the ride temporarily erases other thoughts.

\-------

She reaches the gates just as shades of pink begin to tinge the horizon. They had slowed their horses an hour back to once again discuss Octavia's predicament. The kill order makes staying with the grounders impossible. While Indra has been given command of the blockade, she explained that Heda's position is already tenuous with so many cries for revenge, and any show of mercy could result in mutiny. But walking into Arkadia and being arrested seemed an equally ridiculous plan.

'The tunnels!' Clarke had exclaimed triumphantly. 'You can wait there until I've staked out the camp. I know it's shitty considering...'

'I'll do it!' Octavia replied determinedly. 'Beats being Pike's prisoner anyway.'

The rest of the discussion had involved talk of radios, Indra would be signaled when they needed to meet, solar-powered batteries, and a spot in the forest that would be designated neutral ground where they would go. Then they had parted ways with firm arm clasps and resolute looks. Octavia's hug had nearly burst the dam shakily holding her emotions in. But she had managed to pull away without breaking.

'Check on Lincoln for me.'

'Will do. We might just be cellmates.' 

'Don't even joke about it,' she had retorted.

At the blockade they were again met with a mixture of hostility and awe. Indra motioned for them to be let through.

'Ai na lid yu raitness, Indra kom Trikru,' Clarke had called, loudly enough for the nearby warriors to hear.

'Bring us peace, Wanheda,' came the reply.

With that they had parted, Indra at the blockade, Clarke on horseback heading for Arkadia, and Octavia disappearing into the woods, hoping to use the distraction of Clarke's arrival to slip into the tunnels.

At the gates Clarke is met by none-to-friendly shouts from guards she doesn't recognize.

'I'm Clarke Griffin, here with a message for Pike. I've ridden all night and didn't expect to be blocked out of my own home, so if you don't mind opening the gates.'

Bellamy appears and opens the gates himself, but blocks her entry.

'You'll have to dismount and give over your weapons.'

'Seriously?'

'Clarke, last time I saw you you tasered me so you could run off back to Lexa with Octavia, who has since betrayed us resulting in four of my men being killed by Grounders. So yeah, weapons.'

Clarke complies grudgingly. Of course, none of this is unexpected, but a show of offense is important if she is going to garner support. She endures the search with a stony glare. 

'So you're making enemies of your own people now? Classy.'

Bellamy remains silent as he walks her through the camp, flanked by a few guards. 

'Am I a prisoner?'

'I'm taking you to Pike. The council will decide what is to be done.'

\------

The first thing that hits Clarke when she’s led into the familiar counsel room is the absence of familiar faces. Pike presides over a gathering of a dozen or so people. Kane and her mother are nowhere in sight. There is Monty and an older woman with similar features, but no sign of Jasper or Raven. Their cold stares leave little doubt as to their opinion of her.

‘I hear you have a message from the Commander,’ Pike says evenly.

Her determination returns at the mention of her mission. 

‘Yes. Since Skaikru has twice broken the truce and attacked a neighboring village the Commander has set up a blockade to stop any further attacks. The blockade will remain in place until terms of peace are renegotiated and those responsible for the attacks brought to justice.’

She can feel Bellamy’s head jerk at her last remark but doesn’t deign to look at him.

Pike’s smile is more disturbing than any threat he might have made.

‘A blockade, you say, all of the grounders finest warriors surrounding out camp. Why, we couldn’t have planned it better ourselves.’

‘Pike, it’s time to end this madness. We can’t possible hope to win. The Grounders are ready and willing to make peace. Twice now they have stayed their hand when we have broken the treaty and killed innocents. The commander has proven her loyalty and tolerance. Why waste precious lives unnecessarily?’

‘It’s chancellor Pike to you,’ he replies stonily, ‘and I hardly think you hold an unbiased opinion, Clarke Griffin. Or is it Wanheda? You’ve been playing house with the Grounders for so long, I can hardly tell. You even speak like them. Skaikru. Justice. Commander this, Commander that. Calling them innocent. Do you even know what their idea of justice is? Those responsible for the ‘attacks’ are the people sitting in this room, the leaders of Arkadia who are working to ensure a future for our people that doesn’t involve being enslaved by the Grounders. And if you weren’t so wrapped up in their world you would realize that we have every hope of winning. They have the masses, but after Mt. Weather, we have the firepower and no lives need be wasted, none that matter anyway.’

Clarke’s stomach tightens with incredulous disgust. 

‘So you’re going to commit genocide,’ Clarke retorts accusatorily.

‘I will do what is necessary to survive. You think you know the grounders, but so do I. I know there can only be peace when they are broken.

‘I hear you have ridden through the night. You will be taken somewhere to rest. This evening we will reconvene to decide your future role in this camp.’

She is then escorted to a spartan room by a guard from Farm Station. She collapses in bed, sore and dejected. Wondering if Octavia got in; wondering what in the world she was thinking, how she can possibly hope to do anything; wondering at how atrocities can be committed under the guise of heroic acts. Exhaustion finally provides a temporary reprieve from her thoughts.

\------  
Lexa rose with the sun after a night of restless dozing. She sits in the early rays, immobile, trying to capture the calm, to still her own soul before she is expected to be the unwavering ballast for the chaos of others. But it’s harder today. Her feelings are alive, churning, and will not be corralled by her even breathing. Her heart pounds in her chest despite her inactivity and she knows it’s because it is pulled, stretched across the woods and into Arkadia. 

Clarke.

The Ascension Day ceremony had gone well, Naitblida performing their rituals to a T. She had been the picture of a stoic, benevolent Heda. But the air was thick, tensions charged after the events of the day. Her thoughts were on fire and she had craved solitude. She had returned to her chambers to find what would have been Clarke’s dress for the evening returned to her, to lie in a bed that was bathed in her scent, and her heart had expanded in her chest and pushed painfully against her ribs. People thought being Heda meant power, but she was powerless. She had not been able to stop the wave of betrayals that had brought them here, she could not protect the one she loved, she could not even control her own heart. The hours had dragged passed until the suns welcome rays brought with them a mixture of relief and dread.

Now all her instincts decry the danger Clarke is in, alone amongst hostile people who have already slaughtered innocents. Yet Clarke is not hers, just as she does not belong to herself. Their only hope is to create peace and perhaps with it…

A knock at the door. Her jaw clenches in resolution.

‘Enter.’

‘Heda, the ambassadors will be assembled within the hour.’

‘Thank you, Titus. If any messengers arrive from the blockade I want to be informed immediately.’

His eyes narrow in disapproval but he nods deferentially and exits.

\----  
The heated discussions in the council room quieten as Lexa enters. After the customary bow and greetings they are seated and she opens the floor, purposely ignoring the empty seat to her left. A figure rises to speak.

‘Uzac kom Yujleda,’ she nods, giving him permission to begin.

‘Heda, this blockade is folly! Thousands of our best warriors, our hunters, providers, and protectors, camped uselessly around Arkadia. And for what? To protect the murdering Skaikru. This is not our way! The Kongeda was formed to protect the twelve clans. Let us do so now by eliminating the threat. We must break the power of Skaikru.’

A murmur of assent ripples through the room, rising steadily to a clamor for vengeance. 

An imperious raise of Lexa’s hands brings silence again.

‘Warriors of the twelve clans, for years you have trusted me to lead you and my reign has brought unity, peace, and free trade. Each clan has prospered as a result of the coalition and I in turn have fulfilled my duty to protect you. Do not think that I have changed. Sparing the murderers was not a merciful sign of weakness, it was a calculated decision. Our armies are strong and fierce, yet it took only a small number of Skaikru to kill 300 hardened warriors. Their weapons give them a range and accuracy that we do not yet possess. I do not say that we cannot take them down, none can stand against our combined strength, but I ask at what cost? How many lives would be lost in this battle? I do not think only of the innocent members of Skaikru that will be killed, but of us, of our people. Skaikru will be brought to heel and the guilty will be tried for their crimes, but with a little patience we may achieve this without further unnecessary death.’

‘How? They have repeatedly disregarded the coalition and proven themselves untrustworthy. How can we trust them?’ 

And the affirmative murmurs begin again.

‘I trust Wanheda,’ she declares, plunging the room into immediate silence. ‘Wanheda has proven herself to us. She destroyed the mountain and taught us how to help those it had taken. She bowed before me in this room, before you all as a symbol of loyalty to the coalition. She has sat with us in council, eaten with us, trained with us.’ 

She pushes on, despite the tremor in her spine. ‘Wanheda has strength, wisdom, and honor. She knows Skaikru, and she recognizes the coalition and wants only peace. She cares about our people, not just Skaikru, but all the clans. She will deliver us those who must be punished. She just needs time.’

‘And if she cannot?’

Lexa turns coldly to face Titus’s question. 

‘She will.’

The uneasy silence is thick with distrust.

‘But I pledge myself to the Kongeda yet again. Whatever becomes of Wanheda's efforts, I will do what is necessary to ensure the protection of the 12 clans.’

Their trusting nods tell her that she had them once again. She dismisses the ambassadors and heads back towards her rooms. Titus catches up with her on the way.

‘Heda, this waiting is folly. Even if Clarke wants to bring peace I fear there is little she can do. She has no power over Skaikru. We must act now!’

‘Clarke will have her time, Titus. She will find a way.’

He opens his mouth to protest, but she shakes her head firmly in preemption.

‘We will speak no more of this now. I will join the Naitblida in their training. Who knows when I will get another chance.’


	2. High hopes

A deep growl from Clarke’s stomach wakes her up in the early afternoon. She stretches her aching muscles awkwardly, remembering it has been over 24 hours since she’s eaten. She stiffly pulls on her boots and makes for the door, only to find that is it bolted from the outside. She jangles the handle roughly before banging and yelling until it is cracked open.

‘What?’

It’s the same guard from that morning.

‘You just gonna keep me here all day until I starve to death?’

‘You’ll stay here until you’re called for your trial. A few more hours at least as the council members are busy. I’ll see what I can do about food.’

Ten minutes later there is the sound of the door unlocking and Miller steps in, dressed as a guard and carrying a tray of food.

‘I’ll just do a second sweep for weapons,’ he tells the other guard before closing the door.

‘Don’t try anything, Griffin,’ he adds loudly.

But when he steps closer his voice drops to a whisper.

‘Your mother’s fine. She’s working in the infirmary and can still move around the camp, though she’s watched.’

Clarke’s eyes widen and she leans closer.

‘Kane?’

‘In lockup. We had bugged the council room, which is how we were able to get the news to Octavia about the village. But after that they swept it and found the bug. Kane was naturally suspected and took full blame. Got me off the hook. He’s in a cell with Lincoln. They’re both okay for now.’

‘And Raven?’

‘She’s out, still working as a mechanic, though in a limited capacity. Monty and Jasper are out too, but Monty is working with his mom and Pike and Jasper is too drunk off his ass to do anything.’

Clarke nods, registering the information.

‘Miller, listen. Octavia is in the vent tunnels. Is there any way you can sneak her in?’

He thinks for a moment.

‘I’ll try, but it’ll have to be tonight when things are quieter. The safest place for her to hide would be in the workshop, it’s so full of junk already. We need to make sure Raven is on board.’

‘I know Raven. She’d never stand for what Pike’s doing. We just have to talk to her.’

‘Everything all right in there?’

The other guard’s voice makes them both jump.

‘Fine,’ Miller calls back. ‘All clear, I’m coming out.’

‘I won’t see you again before the trial, too risky. But I’ll find a way to make contact after depending on the outcome.’

And with a nod from Clarke, he steps smartly out of the room.

\-----

It’s late afternoon when they return to take her to the trial. A larger crowd is present this time and Clarke figures Pike is intent on putting on a show of justice, which may just work to her advantage. She’s led to the center where she’s allowed to speak in her defense.

She reminds them of all that she’s done; how from the very beginning she did whatever was necessary for her people, fighting first the grounders, then people from Mt. Weather. She explains how everything she did at Polis was for her people, giving details of the negotiations that would put an end to the war and bring them the peace they needed to flourish. She concludes with how she came back the minute the blockade was announced to once again help her people.

The nods of assent are mixed with shouted accusations. It was her trusting of Lexa that put them in the Mt. Weather mess in the first place. Her deals with the coalition would’ve made them all the Commander’s subjects. She killed Finn.

‘Yes, I made a deal with Lexa and she abandoned us,’ Clarke replies, a hint of anger in her voice. ‘But if it hadn’t been for her, for her army, we would never have gotten into Mt. Weather. Their cover got us in. Not to mention that that truce is what stopped the grounders from killing us in the first place. It was the beginnings of peace, the first since we landed. The Commander’s made no move against us since then. She protected us when the other clans wanted to attack. Yes, I killed Finn, but only to spare him from a worse death. And Finn was guilty even by our laws. Need I remind you how we punished lawbreakers on the Ark? And as to being the Commander’s subjects, yes, we would have to abide by the laws of the coalition, but would be free to govern ourselves however we choose. She would not interfere in our affairs and we would be granted free trade with the other clans which would ensure our survival. It is peace and a promise for the future we wanted. That is what I was working for.’

The crowd is momentarily silent as they form their opinions on Clarke’s words.

‘Thank you, Griffin. The council will discuss your position and give you a verdict presently.’

Clarke is led to a seat on the side. She spots Raven in a chair across the room. Their eyes lock and she sees in them the rebellious determination she was hoping for. An imperceptible nod passes between them before she looks away.

It takes a mere ten minutes for the council to reveal its decision. Clarke is found guilty only of being naïve, a likely mistake when one so young is given too much responsibility. Consequently, she is given freedom of the camp and assigned to help her mother in the hospital wing. There will be no need for her to carry weapons or take part in the council’s decisions now that more capable people are in charge.

Clarke bites down the caustic retorts that rise in her throat. Let them have their moment. She has her freedom and with it the means to bring them down. She nods simply and joins the dispersing crowds, avoiding their stares. Once she is out she slips quietly into the workshop and waits for Raven to join her.

‘Thought you might come here,’ Raven says as she hobbles in.

‘How are you?’

‘Swell! My leg is more useless than ever so your mom has me stuck on sitting duties.’

‘Well, that might just be to our advantage.’

‘So what’s the plan?’

Clarke smiles at her directness.

‘Well, Octavia’s here too. Miller’s gonna try to sneak her into the workshop. I’ll be able to talk to my mom in the hospital wing, see what’s going on there, how many people we can get on our side.’

‘I mean after that. Are you really going to put us into Lexa’s hands after what she did? You gave a pretty speech out there, but Lexa’s ruthless and harsh. Is that really what you want for us?’

Clarke meets her eyes, taking in the deep pools of loss and pain hidden behind the layer of determination. She remembers that the only Lexa Raven knows is the one who ordered Finn’s death, who tied her up and tortured her on suspicion, who let her people be bombed, and abandoned them at Mt. Weather.

‘Lexa’s hard, it’s true, but she is also wise and fair, and determined to bring peace no matter what the cost. I’ve seen her stand up for us in council, risking the entire coalition and her own neck to protect us. She didn’t have to make us part of the coalition, none of her people wanted it, but she’s trying to do right by us. It would’ve been easy to let Azgeda attack and then finish us off, but instead she sent an army to protect us against them and put her life on the line to kill the queen who wanted our annihilation. She stopped her clans from taking revenge when we broke the truce twice, standing alone against all their traditions, trying to give us peace despite our best efforts at provoking war. She,’ and here her voice cracks just a little, ‘she swore to me that she would protect us, treat our people as hers, and everything she has done has been true to that promise. But her people can only take so much. Hell, we would’ve attacked them by now, and if we keep stabbing them in the back she won’t be able to protect us much longer.’

Raven’s eyes search hers for a long moment before she nods.

‘Ok, what do you need from me?’

‘We need to find out what Pike is planning. He was smug as shit this morning and I think he has an attack plan in motion.’

‘Oh, I’m way ahead of you. Bellamy brought his radio in for repairs yesterday. Bored as I am, I decided to add a remote switch so I can tune in and listen to their melodramatic rants while I work. We can check up on them at any time.’

‘You cocky nerd!’

She shrugs, ‘I do what I can.’

Raven sets up the receiver and they tune in.

‘…why we should wait. The missiles are just about ready, but their army is still assembling and another day will give us higher casualties.’

‘Hannah, Monty’s mom. Real peach,’ Raven interjects for Clarke’s benefit.

‘From what Clarke said that shouldn’t be a problem,’ Pike replies. ‘It seems she convinced the commander to wait a few days so they won’t be expecting an attack. The missiles will take them by surprise, and we can follow that up with a couple of squads to pick off the survivors. Once we defeat this army, grounder resistance will be minimal and we’ll be free to set up as we choose.’

‘Do we really need to pick off the survivors? Won’t the missile be bad enough? I mean, like Clarke says, we don’t really want to commit genocide.’

‘It’s not genocide, Monty, it’s survival. Every man, woman, and child amongst the grounders is trained to kill and they will not rest until they have their revenge. We need to show them that we are just as ruthless, that resistance is futile. Only then will they back off.’

‘I still think we should hit them by night.’

Bellamy’s voice casually discussing large-scale murder chills Clarke.

‘There will be less chance of people escaping and going for help.’

‘You’re right. We’ll hit them just before dawn, the day after tomorrow. Our mechanic will recheck the weapons tomorrow and we’ll be set. Meanwhile, you prepare the squads. But keep it quiet around camp. Clarke’s return has stirred up some animosity and we don’t need anyone asking questions before it’s done. Also, I want Clarke watched. We can’t make a martyr out of her, but I don’t want her causing any trouble. She should be fine in the hospital wing.’

Raven clicks off the radio as they begin getting up to leave.

‘Well, that was an earful.’

Just then there is a noise at the door and they quickly move into more casual positions, Clarke scanning her mind for possible excuses for being in the workshop.

‘I brought you some more parts to sort through,’ Miller says, wheeling in a large trolley.

The girls relax again, only to jump out of their skins when Octavia springs out of the trolley as soon as the door is closed

‘Jesus, Blake!’ Raven exclaims.

‘You made it!’ Clarke says in relief as Raven hugs her hard.

‘My legs need some stretching but I’m good to go. What’d you find out?’

‘Nothing much. Just that Pike took missiles from Mt. Weather before it was destroyed, which he’s going to use to decimate the grounder army and ensure Skaikru supremacy.’

‘Shit!’ Octavia replied. ‘When’s the attack?’

‘Pre-dawn, day after tomorrow.’

‘Ok, what do we do?’

‘Those missiles would be a cinch to deactivate if I can get my hands on them,’ Raven offers.

‘We just have to figure out where there are.’

‘I think I know,’ Miller interjects. ‘Just before the Mt. Weather explosion a few trucks arrived, guarded by Farm Station. They’re in the loading dock, one still hasn’t been emptied, but the guard presence around there has increased and I’ve seen their mechanic snooping around so I think it’s a pretty good bet.’

‘Ok, if they’re there our best shot is to get in tomorrow night, after the mechanic has already checked them, just before the attack. If you can confirm that they’re there, Nathan, we can try to sneak Raven in to do her thing. Would that give you enough time, Raven?’

‘I didn’t become the youngest, and arguably the best, mechanic in ZeroG in 52 years without some mad skills. Get me in and I’ll get it done.’

‘I’m warning Indra,’ Octavia declares. ‘If she knows when the attack is then she’ll be able to move her people before it happens, in case we fail.’

Clarke nods. ‘I’ll have to go to the hospital wing tomorrow, but I’ll try and see if we can somehow find more who are willing to help. Stopping the missiles is our first priority but we’ve still got a long way to go. We’ll meet here again tomorrow evening.’

They rise and Miller helps Raven arrange a cart of parts to be taken out which Octavia can hide in.

When they leave Clarke turns to Raven again, catching the wince of pain in her face before she quickly hides it.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Fine,’ she replies dismissively, ‘chronic pain’s a bitch, but nothing I can’t handle.’

Clarke pushes down the concern that wells up in her. There’ll be time for all that once this mess is sorted.

‘Will you keep an ear on them?’

‘Nothin’ better to do.’

‘Oh and Raven, next time they start ranting about genocide, record it. It might just come in handy.’

Clarke squeezes her shoulder on the way out.

\----

Octavia is motioned into the camouflaged tent with a businesslike nod. Indra is alone, looking well despite her recent travels. She’s nearly unrecognizable from the mess she had found in Polis.

‘What news, Octavia?’

When Octavia spells out the situation in as few words as possible, Indra’s reaction is expected.

‘In two days’ time, you say. Then we will attack tomorrow before they have the chance.’

‘No, Indra, the weapons are already functional. If they suspect you’re preparing to attack they will just deploy them sooner. Raven can do this! She’s a genius with tools. You just have to stay put tomorrow and give her time.’

Indra’s glare tells Octavia she is far from convinced.

‘Look, I came to warn you so that, if for some reason we can’t stop it, you can get out in time. I’ll come back tomorrow night to give you an update, but just in case, I want you to be ready.’

Indra nods slowly.

‘Very well, I will give you the day. But if you are not here by midnight tomorrow I will make the call that protects my people.’

‘I expect nothing less.’

They clasp hands in farewell. No, ‘be carefuls’ are spoken, but they eyes say it all and the warriors part regenerated by the camaraderie.

\----

Clarke cuts her mother’s emotional hug short, wanting to take advantage of the empty ward.

‘Mom, how many people voted for Kane? Have you been in touch with any of them?’

‘Nearly half the camp, but Kane was the one who worked with them afterwards. I was pretty much confined here.’

‘Lexa is doing her best to keep the grounders back so we can stage a coup, but they’re pretty mad and we don’t have much time. We need to try and put the word out that now that I’m back something will happen. I think this is a good place to do it. We’ll talk to the patients and people who bring them in. If it’s someone who voted for Kane we’ll feel them out, drop hints.’

‘Clarke, you only just got back. It’s too dangerous.’

‘So is doing nothing! Kane and Lincoln are locked up, Pike is planning an attack, and thousands of angry grounders are camped at our door wanting to know why we slaughtered their attempt to help us. This is our best chance.’

Abby stares into the fierce determination in the eyes she knew so well.

‘Ok, but nothing too overt. If we get ourselves locked up too that won’t help anyone.’

Their attempts go surprisingly well. Hints are met with determined nods. People begin to come in, complaining of invisible wounds, only to tell them they have their support. A small arsenal is beginning to accumulate, taped under hospital beds; tasers, knives, a couple of pistols, even an automatic, which they begin stealthily redirecting towards the workshop once there is no more room. Clarke feared her mother would grow more worried as things escalated, but instead her resolve hardens and she grows bolder in her interactions with supporters. When Clarke finally takes a lunch break around three she her morale was high once again.

That is, until Bellamy ambles over and set his tray down opposite her.

‘Clarke.’

‘Oh, are we talking again now?’

‘Look, Clarke, I know you’re angry. You think you know what they need, but you don’t. You left. I was here. I’ve been here, helping them, protecting them, listening to what they need. You chose to leave and then you chose to stay with Lexa instead of coming back when we were attacked. You literally chose the savage who abandoned us.’

‘Savage?!’ Clarke shoots back, anger flaring. ‘The savage who single-handedly stayed her army from seeking vengeance after you slaughtered our allies in their sleep? The savage who again, held back when you attacked an innocent village because you wanted to take their land? You murdered them, Bellamy! You even executed the prisoners. You’ve tried to convince yourself that they were a threat but I know your conscience haunts you at night.’

She sees his eyes flicker with guilt.

‘Lexa has a vision for peace and prosperity and the strength to bring it about. She would’ve done so long before now if you and Pike hadn’t royally screwed up. She’s ten times the leader either of you will ever be!’

A flash of jealousy darkens his face.

‘We’re doing what needs to be done. If you hadn’t spent so much time flirting with the enemy you’d see that. Just stay out of our way, Clarke. I know you’re probably planning something, but whatever it is, don’t do it. Keep your head down and help your mother. You’ll see things my way in the end.’

And with that he stands up brusquely and marches away.

Clarke heads back to the infirmary, anger fueling her determination to end this reign of madness.

\------

They meet again in the workshop to put the evening plans into motion. Raven will be called to the loading dock by Miller when one of the trucks malfunctions, something Raven arranged earlier that afternoon with a little help from one of the weapon smugglers. Octavia will slip in as well, using her grounder skills, the cover of darkness and a little help from Miller, to act as a lookout and assist Raven where needed. Clarke will return to the hospital wing to throw off Pike’s spies, but she’ll keep a radio on her just in case. Once it’s done Octavia will head back to the grounders and call off the attack.

The time seems to drag on in the infirmary. An hour. Two. Octavia will need to leave soon if she’s to make it to the meeting point by midnight. Clarke can’t imagine what might happen if she doesn’t.

She’s about to head down to the dock herself when her radio crackles and an urgent voice whispers, ‘Clarke?’

‘Raven, where are you?’

‘Back at the workshop. I did it. Jammed the nav systems so they can’t be launched; made it look like damage caused by the jolts of the forest drive. If we’re lucky they won’t suspect anything. But Clarke, they have two! And even their mechanic can come up with a solution in a day or so. We need a permanent plan.’

‘We’ll get to that. Has Octavia left?’

‘No, that’s why I’m calling you. She can’t get out. They suddenly tripled the guards, probably in preparation for the launch. They won’t find her but…’

‘I’ll go. My mom can cover for me. And Raven?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Good work!’

\-------  
Clarke moves silently through the forest, using the skills she learned in the months living and hunting in the wild. Her eyes scan the trees until they just make out a flicker of light. It’s nearing midnight and she hurries the rest of the way, no longer bothering to keep quiet now that she’s far from Arkadia.

The guards tense when they see her, before they recognize who she is and motion her inside deferentially. The tent is bustling with activity. She spots Indra near the entrance and is about to greet her when a figure turns at the back of the tent and she freezes.

‘Lexa.’

The whisper escapes her lips involuntarily. Lexa is standing, imperious in full battle gear and war paint, surrounded by Roan and several other heads of the clans.

‘Clarke.’

The greeting is even, neutral, with only the slightest hint of tenderness. But the steadfast green eyes betray just enough longing to make Clarke swallow hard before replying.

‘Commander.’

The air is thick and heavy and she can’t resist the urge to step a little closer to her reassuring aura. It takes all her willpower to stop there. Two days feel like a lifetime when you think you might never meet again. 

She’s shaken back to reality by Lexa’s low voice.

‘Indra has told me of the situation.’

‘Yes. Raven’s disabled the navigation systems so they won’t be able to launch them tonight. It should buy us a day or two, but we need to find another solution.’

‘Heda, this is our chance. Let us attack while their weapons are down and we have the element of surprise. We will not get a better chance than this.’

A murmur of assent ripples throughout those present.

‘No!’ Clarke’s voice is loud and authoritative, plunging the tent into silence. ‘The camp is full of innocent people, people who are gathering weapons and numbers to overthrow Pike as we speak. We will resolve this! We just need a little more time.’ The last part is addressed to Lexa, eyes pleading.

‘We can’t risk it, Wanheda. You’ve had your chance.’ Roan’s hoarse voice echoes easily through the tent before he turns to face Lexa. ‘Commander, your duty is to the 12 clans. Wanheda has been given more than enough time, and admittedly has done us a great service in disabling their missiles,’ this with a nod of recognition to Clarke. ‘But we must act now. You’ve promised us justice. It’s time you deliver.’

Roan’s statement is met with unanimous nods from the other generals.

Lexa remains silent, meditative, eyes on Clarke. If Clarke can indeed bring about the coup in time, it is the best solution. But none can guarantee that and she would be gambling with the lives of the entire grounder army, not to mention their loved ones back in the villages who were left unprotected.

Clarke sees that she is torn and breaks the silence again with a hastily concocted plan.

‘Look, the missiles are on a truck. All we need is to drive the truck out of camp and bring it here. Without the threat of the missiles we’ll have all the time we need to take Pike down.'

'And how do you expect to drive the truck out of a guarded camp?' Indra asks.

'We have some of the guards on our side. We can pull it off at night.'

Eyes narrow in suspicion and Clarke wonders if her plan sounds as haphazardly thrown together as it is. 

Lexa feels the silent attention of the room turn to her awaiting a decision. It is a long shot at best, and she can feel Clarke's hidden insecurity from here, but waiting a day to attack will make little difference to them, and perhaps all the difference to Skaikru.

'You may have one day, Wanheda. The truck is expected at our camp during the night tomorrow. If it does not arrive we will use the cover of darkness and attack before dawn.'

She stonily faces down her general's silent protests, eyes daring them to challenge her. She reaches Roan who offers her a grudging acquiescent nod.

'Let it be known that a truck from Skaikru is expected in our camp. Any Sky people in the truck are granted immunity from the kill order.'

A chorus of, 'Yes, Heda,' ends the discussion.

'Leave us,' Lexa motions, turning her back, and the tent quickly empties.

Clarke steps hesitantly closer.

'Thank you.'

Lexa turns and nods silently in reply.

'When did you get here?' Clarke asks.

'This afternoon. When you left Polis I had you trailed by Enyo, she is skilled and silent and I wanted to ensure your safety. She returned to me with news of you being taken prisoner when you entered camp, and I rode out at once. Only on arrival did I hear you were at liberty.'

Clarke nods wordlessly.

'I hate the thought of you in there,' Lexa confides in a shaky whisper, turning to stare at the ground. 'You're so exposed. I can’t protect you.'

Clarke takes another step towards here, reaching out to lightly brush her arm. It's tentative but reassuring.

'I have to do this. Just like you had to fight Roan. This is my fight.'

Lexa nods, eyes moist with emotion. 

'I know. That is why I have not asked you to stay.'

Clarke swallows appreciatively, letting Lexa's concern and understanding wash over her. The nostalgia is almost unbearable, standing here next to her. In Arkadia and the bustle of trying to overthrow the government, she could bury it, her mind could downplay its importance. But being here, after being apart, magnifies the ache tenfold.

'Do you have a weapon at least?'

'Just a taser someone smuggled into the infirmary. You know, the lightening stick,' she explains to Lexa's blank look. 'Can't risk being caught with anything else.'

Lexa nods understandingly.

'Lexa,' her voice breaks a little as she speaks and Lexa turns to face her. 'If we don't get out you have to leave. They could activate the weapons sooner than expected, and even without them, their guns will rip through your army.'

'I can't do that, Clarke.'

'You have to! Your people need you! If you fall so does the coalition and every hope of peace. It's like TonDC, sometimes you just have to walk away.'

'That was different,' Lexa whispers, holding her gaze, 'I wasn't walking away from you.'

Clarke is silent, drinking in the meaning of the words.

'Please.' 

It's just a word but it seems enough to convey everything. Please, I can't bear the thought of you being in danger. Please, I couldn't live with myself if you died. Please, I don't care what is best or rational, I just want you to be safe. Please, because I care about you.

Lexa is moved by the concern in her voice. She cups her cheek gently with her gloved hand, pressing their foreheads together, gently caressing Clarke's nose with her own as she strokes her hair.

'Will you not fight harder if you know my life depends on it?' she whispers against her. 

Clarke's shivering sigh is an affirming confession. 

Lexa tilts her chin gently and brushes her lips against Clarke's. It's soft, gentle; the barest of touches, but Clarke feels like she's coming up for air. She kisses back, harder, sucking on her sensual bottom lip, catching the tiny moan that escapes Lexa's mouth. Lexa is intoxicating and overwhelming and uncontrollable, but also the only thing that feels like home. 

Clarke's hands are on her waist, under her coat, fumbling at her clothes, reaching for skin. She places a hand on the small of her back and pulls her closer as her tongue explores her mouth and Lexa shudders with pleasure and leans into Clarke for support. Her hand entwines in Clarke's hair as her hips move into her, yearning.

There is a pause and Lexa pulls their lips apart, pressing her forehead against Clarke's.

'God, I miss you!' Clarke exclaims longingly. 'I even miss your stupid candles!’ she adds as her eyes catch the flickering light. ‘There's not a goddamn candle in all of Arkadia.'

Lexa smiles, eyes still closed, a full gorgeous smile against Clarke's face. And she kisses her again, bodies pressed together; finally whole, finally alive.

Clarke eventually pulls away, with a grudging sigh. 

'I have to get back before I'm missed.'

Lexa nods but wraps her arms more tightly around her, holding her like she's life itself. 

'Clarke,' she whispers into her hair. 

Clarke pulls back to look at her.

'I have made arrangements for my absence, Titus will see that they are carried out. Know that I intend to see this through, to see you safe.'

And her look is so tender and devoted that Clarke can't help kissing her again, hard, as if pressing herself into her through her lips.

'We're gonna fix this, Lexa. I've never wanted anything more in all my life.'

'Peace, or....?' Lexa asks, playing with her pants. 

The tease is so different from all the Lexas Clarke knows, that she laughs and bites her neck in return. Wondering at the girl that lies beneath the weight of Heda.

'You!' she says against her skin. 'But we won't get any of that if you keep this up.'

The mood changes quickly as they near the tent flap. Clarke becomes resolute again, but Lexa feels her dread at leaving and pulls her into one last hug.

'Ste yuj, my love,' she whispers, and Clarke clings tightly to her in return.

\----

The walk back is uneventful until she nears the camp. She can’t see anything, but senses it, and drops into a crouch, taser out. After waiting a few moments she stands and begins to walk silently forward until firm hands grab her from behind pinning her fighting arm and covering her mouth all at once.

‘Gotcha,’ a familiar voice whispers.

Clarke pushes free. 

‘If you ever do that again I’ll kill you!’

‘Yeah, dunno if you can,’ Octavia retorts.

‘How’d you get out anyway? I heard you were stuck in the dock.’

‘Just had to wait until one of them needed a pee. I’ve been waiting for you for a while. Thought you’d be back sooner,’ she explains as they begin heading back.

Clarke proceeds to tell her about the meeting, pointedly ignoring the eyebrow raised when Lexa’s name is mentioned, as if suddenly the delay is all too clear. But she grows serious when the conclusion is reached. 

‘Are you insane? How could you promise that? You didn’t see the way they have the docks guarded. There’s no chance in Hell we can get it out.’

‘I had to! They were all riled up when they heard the missiles were disabled, ready to exploit it and attack. Lexa was barely able to hold them off when I came up with a plan. We’ll find a way.’

They freeze when a twig snaps to their right. Octavia motions to Clarke before springing, landing dagger drawn in front of the towering grounder already holding his sword. 

‘I mean you no harm,’ he growls. ‘I will just return to the camp.’

‘What, so you can tell everyone now is the time to attack. I can’t let you do that,’ Octavia replies, tensing for a fight. 

‘So be it,’ he replies, and begins circling. 

Octavia parries one blow and dodges another, slashing back, but it’s obvious his longer blade cannot be avoided for long. She rolls behind him, hoping to get a better vantage but his elbow catches her in the face and he falls hard. He turns, ready to lunge, but suddenly contorts and falls to the ground. Octavia looks up to find Clarke standing over him, taser in hand. 

‘Oh, the Grounders are gonna love this,’ she groans as their eyes meet.


	3. Time

‘So what are we gonna do with him?’ Octavia asks. ‘We can’t very well drag him back through the tunnels without getting noticed. Not to mention that they’ll see he’s gone and come looking anyway.’

Clarke looks down at the Grounder. His eyes were wild and intense. He presses his neck defiantly against the blade in Octavia’s hand, challenging them, willing them to make a move. She notices the marks of Azgeda on his temples. He's clearly intent on carrying the news back to his king, whatever the cost. Asking nicely isn’t going to work.

‘We only need to delay him for a few hours, after that it won’t really matter,’ Clarke replies. ‘I doubt Lexa will make her move in daylight, it would be too risky with no advantage.’

‘I have an idea then.’

Octavia holds his sword on him while Clarke searches finds a length of rope in his pack. They prop him up against a tree before tying his hands and feet. A strip of cloth acts as a gag. Octavia then takes his knife from his leg strap, walks 30 ft away, and stabs it into the ground.

‘We just need a little time,’ Clarke tells him. ‘I will make good on my word to the Commander. Tell her that when you tell her what happened here.’

His stony cold eyes follow them as they disappear into the trees. It’s possible that he’ll make it out sooner than they hoped, but they don’t really have a choice, other than leaving him defenseless in the woods indefinitely, which doesn’t feel like a viable option between allies. She might already have pushed too far and tries not to imagine the uproar her actions will bring at the Grounder war council.

It’s nearly 3 am when they make it back through the tunnels. Octavia puts on an old guard jacket Miller found in the hopes that it’ll get her safely to the workshop undetected. Luckily there are very few people around at this time. None with any interest in the workshop, anyway.

Clarke slips back to her quarters, unnoticed. She collapses in bed, mind whirring through possible scenarios. Octavia is right; the guard will probably be tripled around the missiles. Even if they do get access to the truck, how will they ever drive it through the camp and out the gate? Was her show of bravado in front of the Grounders a mere postponement of the inevitable? Has she forced Lexa to make yet another impossible decision?

She doesn’t remember falling asleep, only waking a few hours later, still achy and exhausted but determined. She hurries to the workshop, hoping to catch the others there before going back to the infirmary to start her shift.

Raven and Octavia are just waking up when she arrives, apparently roused by Miller’s entrance moments before.

‘So, Octavia told me about your ‘plan,’ Raven quips, adding dramatic air quotes. 

Clarke is grumpy from lack of sleep.

‘I had to tell them something so they didn’t descend on us in the night,’ she counters defensively. ‘Any ideas?’

‘I think it’s pretty safe to assume that they’re gonna be all over fixing those missiles so we can’t get near them during the day. And assuming they again set the launch for pre-dawn they might just babysit them all night. Meaning our chances of sneaking up to them are looking about as promising as Pike walking in here with a flower crown.’

‘Well then, we’ll just need to create a big-ass distraction.’

Raven’s eyes sparkle at this, ‘Oh, I can do something about that.’

‘An explosion might not be a bad idea,’ Octavia chimes in, knowing full well that the sparkle can only mean one thing. ‘Maybe blow a hole in lockup and get some help.’

‘Oh, that’s brilliant! It’s not that far from the infirmary. If Miller can get a bomb on the door an explosion could distract the guards around camp and allow us to slip in.’

‘But maybe not enough,’ Clarke says. ‘They might just up their guard. I say we do it twofold, prison break and attack. I can get together with the people who mom and I have been talking to in the infirmary. We’ll rally here, go out into the square and start rioting, calling Pike out, etc. If they don’t suspect we know about the missiles they should send reinforcements there. That might just give the two of you a window to get in.’

‘The two of us?’

‘You need to stick to those missiles, Raven, no one else knows what the hell to do with them. And Octavia…’

‘Yeah, yeah, I know where the Grounders are and they know me. But Clarke, are you sure about this? Pike still has more people and better weapons. It’s risky.’

‘We’re staging a coup while smuggling warheads. Risky is kind of par for the course. Hopefully the element of surprise will count for something, and more might join in when they see what’s happening.’

The others nod, not thrilled, but it’s the only way. 

‘What about the gate?’ Miller asks

‘The riot should call the guards attention too. But…’

They freeze as they hear a sound at the door. It’s nearing dawn but still far too early for anyone to be looking for repairs. Octavia crouches under the table and Clarke and Miller step in front of her, fully aware of how conspicuous they look. The door opens and Clarke swiftly pulls out Miller gun and points it straight at the intruder.

‘Monty?’

‘Hey, guys. Thought I might find you here.’

‘Right, I’m on the night shift, was just bringing Raven some painkillers,’ Clarke offers quickly.

‘Radio trouble,’ Miller adds by way of justification for his own presence.

‘I see,’ he says. ‘Well, I was kinda hoping you had some sort of plan to end Pike’s madness, but I guess I came to the wrong place.’

They freeze, exchanging suspicious looks.

‘What if I told you Pike has two missiles he’s planning to drop on the Grounder army so he can then wipe out their villages? He just wants to slaughter them! Keeps going on and on about us needing to do it to survive, but it’s crazy talk!’

‘Monty…’ Clarke begins, but Miller cuts her off.

‘How do we know you’re not just trying to get information?’

‘How did I know that about you?’ Clarke says.

‘I say we let him in,’ Octavia says, slipping out from under the table and enjoying his shocked expression. ‘We need all the help we can get.’

His seeing Octavia limits their options to either trusting him or locking him up in some dark closet. They exchange looks, a shrug from Miller, a nod from Raven, and the matter is settled. They fill him in on their plan. He whistles in admiration when they reach the end. 

‘Well, it’s definitely the craziest thing we’ve ever tried. But go big or go home, right. What about Jasper?’

‘He’s not himself these days. We need to help him, but we can’t risk it right now. He’s safer not knowing anything.’

‘Right, so,’ Octavia says, ‘back to the plan. Maybe Monty can help with the gate.’

‘I’m not on gate duty,’ he says, ‘but this guard uniform gives me certain privileges. I’m sure I can get there.’

‘At least we have a shot. That’s the best we can hope for,’ Octavia concludes. ‘Ok, I’ll hang low with Raven today, check in on Bellamy’s radio and see if we can pick anything up.’

‘Right. I’d better get back to my day job,’ Clarke says, swinging off the table and heading for the door. 

‘Oh and Raven, not too big a bomb.’

Raven just smirks mischievously in reply. 

\-----

Lexa is roused by Roan’s shouts outside her tent. She pulls on her cloak, and sword, hurriedly doing up the ties as she steps into the pale morning light.

‘Heda, I have news from one of the scouts. We need to discuss this immediately,’ he says, with just enough deference to her position.

She motions him and the burly warrior inside with a tilt of her chin. They are followed by Indra and a handful of others.

‘What news, King Roan of Azgeda?’ 

‘I had Wanheda followed back to her camp yesterday. For her protection, of course,’ he adds hastily as her eyes narrow. ‘My scout didn’t return until this morning. Tell the Commander what happened.’

The warrior bows low before beginning his tale. 

‘Heda, I overheard Wanheda tell Octavia kom Skaikru of what she had promised us, to which Octavia replied that Wanheda had promised things she could not deliver. As I turned to report what I had heard I was set upon by them, paralyzed by their lightening stick and then tied and gagged before they set off.’

‘And how are you here now?’ Lexa asks in an even voice, aware of her every expression being measured and gauged.

He hesitates, ‘They left my weapons a short distance away. It was their intention that I free myself once some time had elapsed. Wanheda wanted me to tell you that she intends to keep her word,’ he adds, grudgingly dutiful.

‘It doesn’t matter what she said,’ Roan cuts in. ‘She lied to this council and she likely lied to him as well. Her actions say otherwise. Why bother to bind and gag him if she did not fear us discovering the truth. Their weapons are still down, but for how long? This is our window, let’s take it.’

The tent erupts in excited discourse. Lexa turns, shutting out the noise so she can think. Clarke has never hidden the fact that she would do anything for her people; the mountain is proof of that. And last night, she had asked, almost pleaded with Lexa to leave, as if she knew what was to come. Would she save her people at their expense? A few months ago, undoubtedly. Now? She shuts her eyes and sighs, thinking. Picturing Clarke’s face as she had stood there and asked for time. And later, foreheads pressed together, skin against skin. She was unsure, but not false. No, Clarke defends her people, fiercely and passionately, but not without honor. She had freed the grounder, knowing there was less chance they would attack during the day. She wanted to buy time. Whether or not she could succeed was a different matter.

She raises her hand and plunges the tent into silence before turning.

‘We will honor our agreement with Skaikru.’

Impassioned protests erupt immediately.

‘Hush op!’ she yells, and the tent falls instantly silent.

‘Attacking now is riskier than attacking at night. Their weapons are deactivated so waiting until nightfall does not increase the risk. Waiting is the only prudent move. Yes, Wanheda stopped our warrior, but she left him unharmed with the means to free himself. She intends to honor our agreement or die trying. Either way, we will be ready. We will move into position, ready to attack. If the truck with the missiles arrives we will reassess our strategy.’

‘And if it doesn’t?’ Roan challenges.

‘If it doesn’t we move on Arkadia before dawn.’

The defiance remains in his eyes.

‘King Roan, I give you command of the scouts near the gates. If dawn approaches before the truck emerges you may signal the attack yourself.’

He nods slowly, lips pulling in satisfaction. She steps imperiously closer.

‘But if you dare to sound a false alarm I will finish what I started in that arena in Polis,’ she sneers, her eyes deathly serious.

He stares down at her, facing the fire in her eyes. He knows, perhaps more than most, that there is more to Lexa and Clarke than just Heda and Wanheda and woe to the man who threatens one of them. He merely tilts his head in reply, a minuscule gesture of submission, and exits the tent. 

‘Enyo,’ Lexa calls, turning sideways.

A tall girl steps from the side of the tent; bow slung across her wiry frame.

‘Go with him. I want no member of Skaikru harmed if it can be helped.’

‘Yes, Heda,’ she replies, slipping gracefully from the tent.

\------

In the early afternoon Raven enters the infirmary for her regular check-up. Abby is concerned at the continued pain, and tries to gauge how bad it is, proposing alternative treatments. But Raven shrugs her away. She’s not here for that. Not today. She motions Clarke over. 

‘Here it is,’ she says, slipping her a palm-sized package. ‘Tell Miller to stick it close to the locks and press this button, they’ll have 15 seconds to get clear. It should just take out the door, but I put in a little extra gunpowder to amplify the noise. You know, for the diversion.’

Clarke smiles. ‘Thanks, Raven. Any news on the radio?’

‘Seems they’ll have the missiles running again before dark. No foul-play suspected though so we’re good. Miller said he gets put on guard duty at 1 so we’ll move then. Should give us plenty of time to get back to the Grounders. Monty also checked in, said he’ll take care of the gate.’

‘Ok, I’ll head to the workshop when I’m done here. We’ll be ready to light up the square.’ 

‘Octavia and I will head out when we have an opening so we might not be there when you get back. I left you some toys on the bench’

Clarke nods.

Then her tone becomes earnest, ‘No matter what happens, Raven, you get those missiles out. What they might do to us is nothing compared to what they can do if they get those missiles back.’

‘Don’t start talking like a fucking martyr, Griffin! You’re better than all that sap.’

But she hugs her tight anyways. It’s firm, emotional and bolstering.

‘Your gear had better work, youngest in ZeroG,’ she calls as Raven hobbles out.

‘It always does,’ she replies, with a backwards wave.

\-------

The mood is tense and electric in the workshop as the motley crew of 20 or so divvies up their sparse weapons. They pair up, a gun per pair. The others have knives or clubs or sticks. 

‘Remember,’ Clarke says, ‘the goal is not to hurt anyone. We’re there to make noise, create a distraction, and hopefully disarm as many of the guards as we can. The weapons are just for defense. If you need to use them, wound, don’t kill. We’re all Arkadians and we’re just trying to ensure survival. Ambush when you can. If things start going south, try and get away so we can regroup and fight again. We wait for the explosion. That’s our signal, when they’ll be distracted.’

Then they wait, nervously rechecking their gear, making small talk, but mainly just letting the adrenaline build in their stomachs. 

12:30. 

12:45.

Clarke motions them into position behind the door.

12:55.

12:59.

She tenses, hand on the handle.

1:00.

Nothing.

1:05. Still nothing. 

Nervous eyes awaiting her command.

Was the bomb quieter than Raven anticipated? Did it go off without them hearing it? 

She’s about to crack the door when her radio makes her jump.

‘Clarke!’

Raven’s urgent whisper can just be heard.

‘Raven, what’s going on? Did the bomb go off?’

‘It’s Miller! One of the guards is sick so they have him in the yard. He can’t get away.’

‘How many guards at the dock?’

‘Seven. We don’t stand a chance.’

‘Ok, I’m going out.’

‘What? There are at least 10 armed guards around the square.’

‘We have to. Once we get out there Miller can get away and plant the bomb. It’s our only chance. I don’t think they’ll start shooting right away.’

‘Shit, you meant that martyr stuff, didn’t you?’

‘Not if I can help it. Be ready to move.’

‘Already are. Give em hell, Griffin!’

‘You too, Reyes.’

Clarke’s heart is pounding, she feels the pulse in her temples, her wrists. Adrenaline courses through her body. Fuck it! It can’t possibly get worse than it is. She turns to the small group around her. 

‘You’re free to disappear if you want. I can make a pretty big ruckus on my own.’

‘Not a chance!’ someone calls, and the rest nod affirmatively. 

‘Then let’s do this!’ she says, yanking the door open.

They spread out before storming into the yard, a few of them lugging Molotov cocktails, courtesy of Raven, harmlessly into the center, rushing the guards as they turn. Clarke catches Miller’s eye and he sprints off. She turns just in time to dodge the butt of a rifle, rolling out and delivering a firm kick at her attacker’s knees, making him buckle to the ground. They wrestle for a few minutes before she pries the gun from his hand, pointing it warningly at him as he motions him behind a metal crate. Across the square it seems like most of the guards have been overpowered and the rebels take shelter, waiting for the onslaught that is sure to come.

‘Pike!’ Clarke yells challengingly into the night. Her voice echoes across the empty square. ‘We’re here to let you know you’ve been deposed from your role as chancellor. No one else has to be hurt. Just come on out and we can discuss the terms of your surrender.’

A cocky statement from a meager, exposed militia. But she hopes just the thing that will bring the guards running.

\-----

Miller runs into the infirmary to find one of the guards still there, jumpy.

‘What’s going on?’ he asks.

‘Griffin’s mobilized the rebels. Everyone needs to report to the square.’

‘What about the prisoners?’ 

‘There’re doors, aren’t there? We’ll be the prisoners before morning if we don’t stop her.’

The guard grabs his gun and rushes forward, only to feel Miller’s steel muzzle on his neck as soon as he passes him. 

‘I’ll take that if you don’t mind,’ he says, pulling away his gun. ‘Take out your knife and toss it over there.’ 

The guard does as he’s told. Miller steps away, gun still pointed at him. 

‘Get away from the door!’ he yells as he pushes the package against the lock. 

Running now he grabs the guard and pushes him down around a bend in the hall.

The sound is deafening, echoing throughout the camp. For a minute Miller thinks he’s killed them all as he stands, ears ringing. But then he sees Lincoln, Kane closely on his heels. 

‘The infirmary,’ he yells, throwing Kane the guard’s gun, though he’s pretty sure they can’t hear him if he can’t hear himself. 

But Kane seems to have understood. He helps him to his feet and they set off. Lincoln grabs his arm, jerking him to a halt. 

‘Octavia?’ he shouts.

‘Loading docks,’ Miller replies, shaking his head in the hopes that Lincoln will understand that going after her is not a good idea. 

But he’s already picked up the knife and is sprinting in the opposite direction. They watch him for a moment, hesitating.

‘Let’s go!’ Kane says, breaking the stare, and the 12 escapees follow him down the hall, followed by Miller and the guard.

\------

The guards had swiveled at the sound of explosions from the square, allowing Raven and Octavia to slip into the docks behind them. But it was only at Clarke’s yelled challenge that two of them broke off to join the containment team. Octavia had moved to attack, but Raven had held her back with an eye roll that said, ‘please, you’re good but not that good.’

So they’re still waiting in silence when the bomb goes off. Two more of the guards run off and they have their chance. Octavia moves silently, knocking one of the guards out with a swift blow to the head and getting her knife to the other’s throat before the third one turns, training his gun on her.

‘Well, if it isn’t the little Blake,’ he jeers. ‘Put that down, sweetie, and we’ll talk about your anger issues and how they got my brother killed.’

Octavia moves slowly, using the guard for cover.

‘If he’s anything like you I’ll bet it was his charm that did it,’ Raven says behind him, before bringing her tool bag crashing into his head. 

‘Hope they got enough painkillers from the infirmary,’ she adds.

Octavia smirks before rendering the last one equally unconscious. 

They head for the truck, tossing the guns into the back. Raven checks to make sure all the weapons are there. 

‘WMDs, check. We’re good to go!’

They clamber inside and Octavia guns the engine. Only it doesn’t start. There’s only the dead click of the key in the ignition as Octavia tries again and again, pumping at the pedals. Raven groans.

‘Stop or you’ll flood the engine. Bet they messed with the spark plugs so no one could make off with their toys. Pop the hood.’ 

As she goes to work, feeling her way around the engine in the dark, Octavia snags a gun and slips out, choosing a vantage point behind the truck, scanning the entrance. 

‘Got it!’ Raven declares triumphantly a few minutes later.

Octavia rises to go when she sees two men rushing towards them. She raises her weapon and fires above their heads, pinning them down. She’s just maneuvering to get a better angle when a pistol knocks into her head.

‘I’m a lot stronger than my brother, Blake!’ comes the oozing whisper.

He reaches to lift the gun from her hand. Raven instinctively crouches behind the truck, assessing her options. An agile ambush is not exactly in the cards. But just as he’s pulling the gun clear a shuddering crack is heard and he collapses with a broken neck.

‘Lincoln!’ Octavia exclaims, and is about to rush to him when shots make them both hit the ground. 

She raises her rifle again and fires two shots at each of the approaching guard.

‘Get out of here!’ Lincoln calls. ‘I’ll hold them off. 

She looks in his eyes, torn at the thought of leaving him right after they’re reunited. But she remembers Indra’s words about a warrior in battle and nods as she throws him her gun. 

‘I’ll be back for you,’ she says, swinging into the driver’s seat. 

Lincoln steadies the butt of the rifle against his shoulder as he’s seen it done a hundred times. Not Trikru, not Skaikru, just fighting for the only thing, the only one who is home. His first shot is wide and he bucks at the impact, but it’s enough to keep them pinned down as Octavia revs the engine and speeds out.

They reach the gates unnoticed in the uproar of the square. The guards see them coming but Monty slips out behind them, relieving them of their weapons and edging them into the tower as Raven and Octavia near the 10 meter mark. The gates swing open and Octavia presses down on the accelerator.

And then brakes violently, sending Raven flying into the dashboard.

‘What the…’ she freezes as she sees why. 

Bellamy has jumped into the road, crouching, gun trained on them. One of his new Farm Station buddies with him. He’d suspected something, seeing Clarke move into such an open position in the yard. Expected the Grounders to come swarming through the gates and was set to mow them down. What he didn’t expect was to see his sister speeding towards them carrying out their deadliest weapons.

‘It’s over, O!’ he yells. ‘Get out of the truck. Don’t make me do anything.’

‘What are you gonna do?’ she yells back. ‘Shoot your own sister?’

‘If I have to,’ he replies. 

She sees he’s serious. Maybe he won’t kill her, but he’s ready to wound her in the name of his new found ideology. She looks at Raven, debating the options, foot twitching on the pedals. 

‘Do it!’ Raven says. ‘I never lost at chicken and I don’t intend to start now.’

Octavia turns, ready. Just as her foot leaves the brake a figure drop out of nowhere, pinning Bellamy to the ground. His guard buddy drops simultaneously, an arrow through his shoulder. The Grounder places a heavy foot on Bellamy’s rifle as he unsheathes his dagger.

‘Stop!’ Octavia yells. ‘He’s my brother.’

‘And I thought my family was screwed up,’ Roan replies with a shrug. 

He lifts Bellamy’s gun easily, tossing it into the forest, before delivering a sound punch to the side of his head and pushing him to the side of the road. Another Grounder, a woman, though barely older than Raven and Octavia, drops silently into view, her bow attesting to the origin of the other arrow. She disarms the other guard and motions him out of the way. Something in her eyes tells him not to protest.

‘C’mon!’ Octavia says. ‘They’ll be hot on our heels.’

The Grounders hesitate for a moment before swinging onto the back of the truck. 

‘Hold on!’ she calls, flooring the accelerator.

\------

In 10 bumpy minutes they’re at the Grounder gates. 

‘Let us through,’ Roan’s command booms, and the gates part immediately.

Octavia eases the truck into the center of the camp and shuts off the engine. They all clamber out; Raven a bit more slowly than the rest. 

‘Thanks,’ Octavia says, turning to the girl who is closest. 

‘You’re welcome, Octavia kom Skaikru.’

Octavia looks puzzled at the recognition.

‘I have seen you during our alliance against The Mountain, and again in Polis. You are known amongst us,’ she replies.

Octavia nods.

‘This is Raven, the genius who pulled this off.’

Raven lifts her chin in acknowledgement, sizing up the Grounder in front of her. She’s a few inches taller than her, dark-skinned and beautiful, eyes alight in the campfire.

‘That’s King Roan of Azgeda,’ she offers. ‘And I’m…’

‘Octavia kom Skaikru,’ they all spin around at the familiar voice. ‘I see your plan has worked.’

‘Yes, Commander,’ Octavia replies.

Lexa is appraising the truck, face controlled and expressionless, but Octavia senses a measure of relief.

‘I am pleased,’ she says, and Octavia feels like it might just be the highest praise the Commander has to offer.

‘Raven,’ she continues turning towards her, and a barely perceptible hint of softness creeps into her voice. ‘I hear my people are indebted to you for disarming the weapons. Twice now. You have our gratitude.’

Raven nods, coldly. Remembering that the last time she saw Lexa she was staring into her eyes as her knife cut open her arm. 

‘Are the weapons secured?’

‘Should be, I’ll have a look,’ Raven says, happy for an excuse to walk away from the gathering.

Lexa turns her attention back to Octavia.

‘Clarke?’ she asks, her voice is steady with feigned detachment, but Octavia can sense the imperceptible tremor she forced out of it.

‘I dunno,’ she replies, her tone betraying her own fears. ‘We needed a distraction to get the truck out. Had to be big. Clarke let a riot in the square, but they were better armed. We broke everyone out of jail too so maybe they had a chance, but…’

She falls silent. There’s no need to expound on the alternatives.

Lexa nods silently, but an unsteady breath escapes her lips as she turns to face the fire to hide her face.

\------  
The fighting in the square is getting ugly. After their initial victory and Clarke’s defiant speech, the guards hit them full force, they weren’t shooting to kill, but close enough. They had managed to take out a few more of the guards before they ran out of ammo. Then it was only a matter of time. 

Clarke held out as long as she could, using her bullets sparingly to pin them down, dodging through the debris in search of cover. She had done well, wounding two guards, when a bullet grazed her shoulder. It was nothing, just a scratch, but she looked down too late to fully dodge the knife that plunged into her calf. She staggered back with a cry of pain, sinking down in the mud. She had looked up to see Miller and Kane silently moving into the square. But she shook her head. Pike’s men were crawling all over the square. The night was lost, no need for more of them to be taken. Hannah leered over her, gun in hand, but it was obvious Clarke wasn’t going anywhere.

That’s when Pike steps into the courtyard, assessing the damage. Eleven guards and six rebels are having their various injuries examined. He walks over to Clarke sitting on the ground, desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood from around the knife. 

‘Get the wounded to the infirmary; guards treated first,’ he commands.

Then he makes his way cockily to where Clarke is sitting.

‘Is this what you wanted, Griffin? Eighteen of our people wounded. And for what? You’re back where you started.’

Clarke keeps her head down, focused on her wound.

‘Sir,’ Pike turns to the sound across the square.

A guard is walking towards them, rifle pressed hard between Lincoln’s shoulder blades. 

‘There are four wounded down in the loading dock, one dead.’

Pike freezes when he hears those words.

‘The truck?’

‘Gone, sir. This one helped them escape.’

And Lincoln is shoved into the mud next to Clarke.

‘Is this what you wanted?’ he yells at Clarke. ‘Traitor! You’ve given those savages who want to annihilate us the power to do so. Well fucking done!’

And he aims a hard kick at Lincoln’s side.

‘Chancellor Pike!’ 

He stops his blows to acknowledge the guard. 

‘The prisoners. They’ve escaped. Blew the door. They’re barricaded in the infirmary. Seems they got ahold of some weapons too.’

‘Well, we have been busy tonight,’ he sneers at Clarke, rage sizzling just below the surface.

He looks around, taking in the mess; analyzing his options. His face is twitching with fury at seeing his plans snatched out from under him in the space of an hour. Clarke is wondering what depths he will sink to to release that rage. Then a cold smile curls his lips.

‘There’s one thing you didn’t think of, Griffin,’ he says, voice filling with triumph. ‘You may have taken valuable things from me, but I now have the one thing both sides want the most.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of Clexa in this chapter, but there will be oodles of mushy gayness at the end to make up for it.
> 
> Feel free to hit me up on [Tumblr](http://i-like-heda.tumblr.com/)


	4. Us and Them

Lexa remains, eyes transfixed on the embers, willing the storm within her to quieten. It is little comfort that Clarke kept her word and succeeded in getting the missiles out. The hollow ache in her chest does not care that her people have been saved, that they are closer to peace than ever, that she has done her duty as Heda. Heda may have fulfilled her role, but Heda be damned! Lexa is in torment. She tries again to swallow it down. A warrior does not mourn those she’s lost until the battle is won. But the dam Clarke has cracked will not be easily mended. The churning terror at the thought of losing her is overwhelming.

She is stirred from her turmoil when Indra enters the circle.

'Heda, the sky camp is quiet. The fighting seems to have subsided but in the dark we cannot see how it turned out.'

Her words fall silently over Lexa and Octavia

'I still have a radio,' Octavia offers at last, 'we can try and reach Miller or Kane.'

Lexa nods, still not ready to meet anyone's eye.

After fumbling with the knobs for a few minutes Octavia finds the right frequency.

'Kane? Monty? Miller?' she asks, pausing between each transmission to allow for an answer.

The 30 seconds of silence feel like hours. 

Then, a crackle.

'Octavia?' Kane's distant voice brings a rush of relief.

'Kane, you're ok.'

'Miller broke us out of lockup and we made it to the infirmary. We were heading for the square but...it was too late. Pike's guards had already overrun it. We've barricaded ourselves in here.'

'Clarke? Lincoln?'

There is no attempt to hide the emotion in Octavia’s voice.

'They have her. Lincoln too, from what we can gather. A group of the insurgents made it back to the workshop but he wasn't with them.'

Barely a breath escapes Lexa's lips at these words, but Octavia feels the shudder of dread ripple through her and is oddly comforted not to bear the desperation alone.

'Did you get the truck out?' Kane's question seems strangely irrelevant.

'Yeah,' Octavia answers after a pause. 'We're in the grounder camp, with Lexa. I'll let you know what our move is.'

'Right.'

There is a long silence after the radio goes dead. It is somehow understood that the Commander should be the one to break it. Octavia struggles with the thoughts that rise unbidden. If they have Lincoln he could very well already be dead. Clarke is one of them, and a potential bargaining chip, but Lincoln…he would likely be on the receiving end of all the Grounder-directed rage.

'Octavia,' Lexa says at last, voice low and steady, all Heda. 'Do you still have a way into Arkadia?'

'The tunnels should still be free. But only for a handful. And under cover of darkness.'

'Then we must hurry,' she replies. 'Ryder, gather 12 of our best archers. We leave immediately.

'Yes, Heda,' he replies, disappearing into the night.

'Indra, you and Roan will lead the main force to the gates. Once we begin the attack inside you should have an opening. You will have to be quick. We cannot hold against their superior weapons and numbers for long.'

'Heda, would it not be more prudent for you to remain with the army?' Indra asks, her tone respectful but challenging. 

'I want to speak to the Sky people, show them we mean them no harm as long as the guilty are surrendered.'

Neither mentions the real reason she is going. It hangs over them, heavy in Indra's penetrating gaze. But Lexa is unmoved. She is first and foremost a warrior and it is clear what she must do.

'Got it,' Raven calls from the truck, breaking the wordless exchange. 'All remote access is blocked, but I should really disable the guidance and flight systems to be safe.'

Lexa nods. 

'You will have whatever you need, Raven. Enyo!'

The dark beauty slips out from behind the truck.

'You will stay and protect Raven kom Skaikru.'

Enyo's eyes flash in dismay at being kept back from the battle, but Lexa anticipates the protest.

'I know you are one of our best archers, but protecting the missiles is our priority. All that has happened tonight will count for nothing if they are not secured. I would trust no one else with them,' she adds the last part softly, looking into Enyo’s eyes as if eliciting a promise that her trust is well placed.

Enyo nods, accepting her task deferentially.

'Hey, Octavia. Drive us out to the edge of camp, will you? Before we become the newest freak show.' Raven calls.

She looks to Lexa for approval, who nods, motioning to a gap just beyond the tents. Enyo swings up into the back next to Raven as they roll out.

'Indra,' Lexa says when they are alone. 'I know the sky people did you a great wrong, and we will bring you justice. But I am giving you command of the army because you know them. You know they are not all the same, they do not all wish us harm. I trust you not to shed any unnecessary blood.'

Indra nods firmly and Lexa moves to make her own preparations.

Octavia pulls the truck just under the trees, hoping it'll provide some camouflage once the sun is up. She checks her sword and dagger before turning to head back towards the camp.

'What? No mushy goodbyes?' Raven cries in mock offense.

'You won't even have time to miss me, Reyes,' she shoots back.

Raven smirks, tossing her the last rifle from the back of the truck.

'I already have weapons,' Octavia says, catching it instinctively.

'Don't be stubborn, Blake. You're literally trying to take a knife to a gunfight.'

'It's a sword,' she retorts with a roll of her eyes, but straps the gun on anyway.

'Try not to blow things up,' she calls over her shoulder as she sets off.

She finds Lexa surrounded by 14 warriors including Ryder. They're mostly Trikru but a few Ice Nation and some other clans Octavia doesn't recognize. Lexa has stripped off her coat and shoulder guard and is wearing only sparse, tightly-fitting armor; a bow and quiver strung over her back, sword at her side. She looks oddly small without the garments befitting the title, but her eyes possess the steady strength of Heda, determined and lethal.

'You have been chosen because of your skill and fearlessness,' she begins. 'We are going up against an enemy more numerous and better armed than we are, putting us in the most dangerous position this morning. What is more, our mission is not to kill, but to liberate. Our fight is not against Skaikru, but only those who have threatened the peace. So, we must be prudent as well as strong. A difficult task,' she continues after a pause, 'but I have every confidence we will succeed, which is why I have no fear staking the coalition on our victory.'

Her certainty is contagious and the warriors stand taller, drawing on her strength.

'Octavia kom Skaikru will get us inside the camp, where we will be joined by Kane and Skaikru fighters who are trying to overthrow Pike. While we draw their attention, the main forces will attack from the gate.'

She pauses again, swallowing before she continues. 

'We believe that Pike holds prisoners in the yard, among them Wanheda and Lincoln, who were taken while getting the missiles out. Their safety is our first priority.'

She meets Octavia's gaze with steely determination, and something else: hope. Wild, irrational hope that somehow they will succeed, which stirs the fire in Octavia’s own heart.

'I am honored to fight with each of you! You have proven your worth before, and you will do so again today! Kom war!’ she cries, and it is echoed by the circle around her.

They make their way through camp, Lexa stoic and regal, nodding to the rest of the troops preparing for battle. Indra is waiting by the gates.

‘We’ll be in position by dawn,’ she says. ‘May we meet again.’

They clasp arms firmly before the archers exit the camp, immediately disappearing into the trees on their way to Arkadia.

\------

Raven and Enyo watch them go from their vantage point on the truck.

‘Well, let’s hope that doesn’t turn into a bloodbath,’ Raven mutters, only half joking. 

‘What do you need?’ Enyo asks, drawing her attention to the task at hand. 

Raven survey’s the missiles, cramped into the back of the truck.

‘It’d be a lot faster if we could get them off here, so I can move around them while I work.’

Enyo nods and sets off into the camp. She returns a few minutes later with four others and some ropes. Raven directs them in choosing appropriate tree branches and tying them onto the missiles, distributing the weight. The branches creak under the strain, but hold and both missiles are moved safely to the ground. 

Some of the grounders stick around to gape at them, trying to wrap their heads around the kind of magic that allows something so relatively small to cause such devastation. But Enyo is quick to shoo them away with a few authoritative lines in Trigedasleng, and they lumber off back to their war preparations.

She turns to find Raven still standing on the truck, her face screwed up in concentration as she tries to solve the biggest problem yet: how to get down from the truck. Enyo steps swiftly forward and offers her her hand. 

Raven hesitates, blushing fiercely at the embarrassment of needing help from a stranger.

‘You have no need to prove your strength, Raven kom Skaikru,’ she says in a low voice. ‘We have already seen it. We’re alive because of it. Let me do my duty so you can do yours.’

Raven holds her eyes for a moment, the dark pools reflecting respect, understanding, but not an ounce of pity. She takes her hand and slowly letting her body ease onto her, watching her broad, sinewy shoulders tense to support her weight. She is surprisingly strong and has no trouble easing Raven to her feet. 

‘Thanks,’ she says quickly once the proper space has again been created between them again, and Enyo just nods.

‘How did it happen?’ she asks.

‘Got shot saving one idiot from another. Don’t know why I bothered,’ she replies flippantly.

‘It would appear you have a bad habit of playing the hero,’ Enyo replies with a raise of her eyebrow.

Raven scoffs, but the hint of a real smile underneath is not lost on Enyo. 

‘Totally unintentional!’ she says. 

They switch on the lights inside the truck which shed only a dim glow on their workspace, but Raven assures her that she can make do in the dark. She begins working on the first missile, unscrewing the metal casing to reveal the wires beneath. It’s hard work, getting out all those screws, and she envies the robots and electric screwdrivers that were undoubtedly involved in putting it together. 

Enyo watches her, eyes flicking between scanning the perimeter in her task of keeping them safe and watching her work, eyes alight with curiosity. Raven can almost hear her brain whirring underneath, curiosity awakened; the need to figure it out, to understand. It’s familiar and she feels an odd sense of affinity with this warrior of the ground. 

She looks up, noticing that her hair is not braided in the typical grounder style with the braids collected at the back of the head, but falls instead in dozens of small braids that are left free to frame her face. And quite a face! Raven can’t help thinking that she’s walked out of some ancient storybook about a rebellious, Egyptian princess, with her high cheekbones and full, dark lips. Unlike the other members of Trikru she has seen, her face bears no tattoos, which she more than makes up for with the tribal symbols on her muscled arms and the portion of her back visible underneath her loose tank top.

‘Do you need something?’ she asks, and Raven realizes she’s stared a little too long. 

‘Nah,’ she replies looking down. ‘Though if you want, I could use some help getting these screws off.’ 

Enyo hesitates, staring at the screwdriver in her hand, and Raven remembers hearing that Grounders are afraid of touching Skaikru weapons. 

‘It’s not a weapon,’ she says reassuringly. ‘Just a tool. You match the end to the screw and turn, counter-clockwise, I mean, left, to loosen it,’ and she demonstrates on the nearest screw.

Enyo takes the screwdriver from her, looking at the end before fitting it to the screw and turning. A little smirk of pride graces her lips as she gets it off and hands it to Raven. Raven can’t help smiling back as she shuffles in the tool bag to get a screwdriver of her own.

‘You’re good with your hands,’ she says, and Enyo smiles down at the compliment.

And the youngest, and arguably best, mechanic in ZeroG in 52 years and the first Grounder mechanic in 97, work side-by-side dismantling the warhead.

\------

‘Triple the guards at the gate,’ Pike orders. ‘Make sure they're all armed with automatic rifles and enough ammo to level an army.’ 

Hannah looks at him questioningly.

‘Do you really think the Commander will be stupid enough to attack? We’d mow them as soon as they get in range. They wouldn't even get close.’

‘I’m sure of it,’ he says confidently, looking down at Clarke. ‘I’ve seen them together in Polis, the look in Lexa’s eyes when she said she’d protect her. And now, Clarke risking her own skin to get her the weapons. She won’t hold back knowing we have her. Especially if we give her a little provocation,’ he adds, a glint of malice in his eyes. 

‘Put men in the halls leading from the infirmary as well,' he adds. 'Abby won’t stand for this either and when they rush desperately out to stop it we’ll have them. By the end of the day we’ll be back where we want to be.’

Hannah nods and moves to relay his orders.

And he looks down again, smiling at the pained glare in Clarke's eyes.

\------

Octavia drops into the deserted corridor just as the first rays tinge the horizon. Lexa and the others climb out behind her, alert and ready. 

‘The square is that way,’ she whispers.

Lexa nods, motioning for her to take the lead. They move silently through the halls, eyes peeled for guards, but the camp is eerily empty and silent; not the calm, heavy silence of sleep, but the anxious, electric silence of a hundred nervous eyes watching, waiting to pounce. The silence you feel in the shiver of your skin. They stop as they reach the door. 

‘Radio Kane,’ Lexa whispers. ‘Tell him to attack when they hear our signal. 

Kane confirms that both groups will begin making their ways towards the square, ready to move in when the Grounders do. 

Octavia silently peels open the door and she and Lexa move onto the balcony, keeping low behind the railings. The pink and orange hues beginning to streak across the sky contrast with the macabre scene below. 

Twenty-some guards stand at attention around the courtyard, their faces grim, muddy, and sleep-deprived, which potentially will make them only more trigger-happy. The gate is heavily protected and they all seem to be wearing strings of ammo, as if expecting the attack, prepared to fire all day. She freezes. Like Nia, Pike knows. He knew she would come for Clarke and he arrogantly baited his trap knowing she couldn’t help falling into it. Titus’s words echo in her head, 'Your feelings for Clarke put both of you in danger.' She shoves them back. Not this time. Not as long as there is breath in her body. 

But her stomach plummets at the scene in the middle of the square. Pike and a handful of guards are standing over six prisoners. They are on their knees, Lincoln among them, nose and arm bloodied, a rifle pressed to the back of his head forcing his neck down. But Clarke is obviously meant as the main exhibit. 

She is tied to a large crate, arms and legs outstretched, only she’s still sagging towards the ground despite the awkward twist of her limbs. There is a knife wedged into her leg and a pool of blood has accumulated beneath it. Her head lolls to the side but she keeps jerking it up as if trying to remain present, focused. She continues to shoot Pike defiant looks that betray the pitiful state her body is in. 

Lexa’s heart stops at the sight, body seething with rage. She motions her warriors into position, signaling for them to string their bows and be ready.

Pike moves to address the crowd of hidden onlookers. 

‘People of Arkadia,’ he begins, voice echoing in the silence, ‘and any Grounder spies who happen to be listening. I was elected chancellor in a fair, democratic vote, and since then I have done all in my power to protect our camp and pave the way for the future, a duty that I have not taken lightly. Yet time and again we have been set back, not by the Grounders, but by our own people. People who have pretended to be on our side, to want what is best for us, only to betray us by helping our enemy.

‘Clarke Griffin,’ he continues, drawing inspiration as an audience begins to emerge from the buildings, ‘returned to us after spending months with the enemy, and still we welcomed her back, naively hoping that she was still one of us, loyal to her people at heart. How did she respond to that trust? By taking our deadliest weapons and handing them over to the enemy, an army that has besieged us and placed a kill order on all our heads. 

‘The time for mercy is over,’ he concludes, voice booming as he draws his pistol and places it to her temple. ‘Traitors will die a traitor’s death. Only then can we be strong.’

Clarke meets his eyes, the gleam of defiance still strong in her own. 

‘Do what you want, Pike,’ she spits out in his direction. ‘You’ve already lost.’

Pike cocks his gun, preparing to shoot.

‘Wait!’ Monty’s shrill voice stops his hand as he runs into the square.

‘You can’t just kill her. Clarke’s one of us. Always has been. If we start killing our own people who disagree there won’t be anyone left to protect.’

‘She’s made her choice,’ Pike replies. ‘Even she accepts that. We can’t tolerate traitors if we want to survive.’

‘If that is your definition of traitor than you’ll have to kill half the camp, including me.’ 

He spins around to see Bellamy enter the square, gun trained on Pike.

‘Bellamy,’ Pike says with obvious disappointment. ‘I may have expected this from Monty, but I thought we understood each other. You of all people know the price of survival. Don’t undo everything we’ve fought for.’

‘That’s what you and I have been doing these last few weeks,’ Bellamy replies. ‘I see it now. Clarke and my sister had it right.’

Before he can take another step forward his face explodes in shock as a shot rings out. He reaches for the wound on his shoulder, collapsing to the ground as he turns to meet Hannah’s steely gaze. She steps forward quickly, kicking the gun from his hand.

‘No!’ Monty cries rushing her, but a swift blow to the head with the butt of her rifle renders him equally useless. 

She nods at Pike.

‘Tie them up,’ he commands. ‘We don’t want to harm any more Arkadians! You are confused now, which I understand. Clarke used to be your friend. But one day you’ll all understand why this is necessary.’

He points his gun towards Clarke again. But stops, a slow, malevolent smile curling his lips. 

‘You wanted to embrace the Grounder culture. Let’s see how you like their execution rites.’

Her scream echoes beyond the camp as he yanks the knife roughly from her leg. Blood begins spurting from the wound. He raises his arm, debating where to cut her first. He settles for her shoulder and is about to begin his slice when an arrow sings through the air, pinning his hand to the crate a foot from Clarke’s head.

He lets out a yell, looking around to see Grounders emerging from strategic points around the yard, bows drawn. They’d made use of his speech to get into place. 

‘People of Arkadia!’ Clarke’s pain momentarily disappears as the thrill of hearing that throaty voice washes through her.

‘We mean you no harm. We have only come for Pike and his followers. All those who lay down their weapons have nothing to fear. Our peace treaty stands. As for the rest of you…jomp em op!’ she yells.

Her warriors spring into action, shooting and ducking to avoid the sprays of bullets from the guards. They are joined by Kane, Miller and the group from the infirmary, who managed to fight their way out of the corridors thanks to the distraction and a little help from last night’s survivors, ranks increased by other Arkadians who have chosen their side. 

Lexa is enraged, unstoppable, running, dodging, parrying, pausing only to fire quick arrows and duck for cover as she races towards the center. Octavia is at her heels, firing quick precise shots at legs and arms, trying to avoid important organs, hoping to wound and not kill. Hannah kneels behind the crate, her shots fast and sure. More than one Grounder hit. 

The guards at the gate turn, hesitating only momentarily before pouring into the yard. Lexa spread her warriors out, giving the impression that they are being attacked by a much larger force. Then the combined battle cries of Azgeda and Trikru resonate through the camp, shaking the already jumpy Arkadians. With the element of surprise the army has little trouble breaking down the gates and they join the melee, charging the guns at full force. With the distance closed their guns provide little advantage.

Pike looks down at Clarke. 

‘You!’ he snarls out. ‘You did this!’

He reaches out with his good hand, grabbing her around the throat, fingers digging into her flesh.

‘You deserve to be destroyed along with all those who will die because of you.’

Clarke’s eyes roll back as she fights to hold onto consciousness, her body twitching, struggling against her bonds as her windpipe is constricted. She feels herself slipping, limbs growing weak at the lack of oxygen.

Then all at once she can breathe again, sucking full, delicious gulps of air into her lungs. 

Lincoln, taking advantage of the distraction, has rammed into Pike and is struggling to pin him to the crate with his hands tied. 

‘Dirty grounder!’ he yells, landing a sharp kick to his kidneys. 

A guard rears around, out of ammo but wielding his gun as a bat against Lincoln’s frame. He doubles over, collapsing under the combined blows. Pike is about to land a kick to his face when there is a flurry of activity. 

Swords flash, powered by a cry of rage as Lexa flies in, spinning and slashing skillfully, taking out both assailants in a few skilled strokes. Octavia and Ryder run in behind her, creating a protective perimeter around the prisoners. Lexa slices expertly through Clarke’s bonds and her limbs fall heavily to her sides as she sinks to her knees in exhaustion.

‘Lexa?’ she asks dazed, barely daring to hope, voice parched and weak. 

‘I’m here,’ she replies gently, her soothing voice contrasting the noise of battle around them.

Clarke looks up to meet her boundless green eyes before blacking out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a little carried away writing the sap at the end and had to add an extra chapter. :)


	5. Coming back to life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had fun writing this one. hope you like it.

Raven’s work became markedly easier once the sun came up and she could actually see what she was doing. The first missile is not going anywhere anytime soon and she’s nearly done with the second. Naturally, it’d be a lot easier if she was just destroying the mechanisms for good, but parts are few and far between and she wasn’t about to let perfectly good systems go to waste when they could be reappropriated. 

She winces, shifting her weight tentatively onto her bad leg. It’s been a long night, more than eight hours since she sat down if you didn’t count the ten-minute ride to the grounder camp, and it’s starting to tell. The dull throb that is ever-present in her leg has increased to a pounding agony which, coupled with the lack of sleep, makes it hard to concentrate. Enyo senses her discomfort and turns from her ever-watchful post to look at her. 

‘Are you in pain?’ she asks, sizing her up.

‘Story of my life,’ Raven replies with a grimace. ‘Pain’s the only thing that sticks around. ‘Course standing on it all night doesn’t help.’

She shakes her head as if trying to dislodge the fatigue and braces herself to continue, turning back to tangle of wires in front of her. Her hand freezes in mid-air when she feels two firm hands on her lower back, the contact spreading a warn tingle through her body which momentarily outweighs the pain.

‘Put your weight on me instead of your leg,’ comes the low instruction just behind her ear.

‘I got this. I’m not some kind of invalid!’ she shoots back pulling away.

‘Not an invalid, but currently invaluable, and assets must be preserved,’ Enyo explains matter-of-factly. 

‘I won’t tell anyone if it’s your reputation you’re worried about again,’ she adds, with just a hint of mockery.

Raven glares at her, but the pain is screaming now so she allows herself to lean back just a little, easing the weight from her legs. The relief is immediate. She only notices how stiff and cramped her muscles were now that they’ve relaxed slightly. An involuntary sigh of gratitude escapes her lips. 

She can feel Enyo’s smile behind her as she shifts her position, removing her hand from her back to grip the missile, anchoring herself more firmly. Raven is now supporting her directly with her taut body. It’s an odd mixture of intimacy and pragmatism and she’s not quite sure what to make of it. Nor does she want to be.

She turns her attention back to her work and can feel Enyo watching her hands; slow, even breathing in her ear as her chest rises and falls behind her. 

‘If you stare I can’t think,’ she mutters with a hint of annoyance.

‘I’ll close my eyes then,’ Enyo replies cheekily. 

Raven just shakes her head and tries to focus.

Fifteen minutes later she is done and Enyo gently eases out from behind her. An odd feeling of nostalgia rushes through her. She feels silly for missing the pressure of her body.

‘God, I get sappy when I don’t sleep,’ she berates herself silently, limping over to the door of the truck to stow the flight mechanism she’s just removed.

Enyo spins suddenly, pointing her bow at her, arrow already strung. But it’s too late. Emerson shakes his head slowly, gun to Raven’s temple as he slips carefully behind her, using her body as a shield.

‘Drop it,’ he orders, pushing Raven forward. 

Enyo hesitates for a moment, meeting Raven’s eyes, before tossing the bow aside. 

‘Swords too, knives, the whole fucking kit.’

His whisper is low but deadly; eyes crazed, determined. Enyo has seen that look before, the look of someone who has but one desire and nothing to lose. There can be no negotiation because there’s nothing else they want. She does as she’s told, flinging her weapons a few meters away, mind racing, sizing him up, calculating her possibilities.

‘Now, I’d kill you and have it done with,’ he whispers coldly, as if her death were just another item to tick off a list, ‘but I have a feeling this one is gonna need some motivation putting my weapons back together, so we’ll keep you around for now.’

‘Your weapons?’ Raven challenges.

‘Why, yes. The ones you stole from Mt. Weather after murdering all my people. I have every intention of returning the favor.’

He passes Raven a loose wire and shoves her forward, gun pointed at her chest where he has little chance of missing the kill shot. 

‘Tie her hands, behind her back. And make it tight. I’m watching you. Just because I don’t want to kill her yet doesn’t mean I’m averse to hurting her.’

Enyo places her hands neatly behind her back and Raven skillfully binds them. Her breathing is calm, determined, as if she were the one in full control of the situation. It steadies Raven’s own nerves. And she feels a surge of strength as she brushes her hands. They’re in this together. He’s no match for that. 

She furtively scans the camp as she walks back. It’s quiet now that the army has left for Arkadia, and the few guards standing around are paying them little attention. Emerson is conveniently blocked from view behind the truck. He’s obviously thought this through.

‘Come on, mechanic. I don’t have all day,’ he snaps.

‘What do you want?’

‘What do you think? Get these beauties up and running again and point them towards Arkadia. Grounders and Sky people roasting together. Now that’s a barbecue I’d be happy to attend.’

‘No,’ Raven replies, jutting her chin up challengingly. ‘You’re obviously just gonna kill us anyway. Why should I help you wipe out my people too?’

‘Because I can do it myself if I have to, although admittedly slower from what I’ve seen of how you work. And there’s a difference between death and suffering which I’d be happy to demonstrate if the need arises.’

There’s a malicious gleam in his eye almost as wild as the pain she sees. She realizes that hurting them would truly give him pleasure and has no intention of going there if it can be avoided. She looks at Enyo, catching a tiny, imperceptible nod. It’s enough. 

She collects the parts from the truck again and gets back to work. Emerson watches her but most of his attention is focused on Enyo, as if he expects her to pounce at any second. He is tense and reeks of desperation. What is more, one look in his eyes and you know he doesn’t want to walk away from this; doesn’t care about surviving. He actually appears to crave death. He just wants to take as many as he can with him, and that’s the most terrifying quality in an assailant.

Raven’s brain is spinning as she slowly reattaches the wires, trying to buy them time. If only the guards notice, but even if they look up they will see nothing out of the ordinary. She can stall for a bit, but he’s been watching her work, he knows her speed by now and will easily become suspicious. She could rig the controls, make it miss, but the warhead will still explode somewhere, and f he has some knowledge of mechanics he’ll be able to tell, unless…

She waits until his head is turned and brings two wires together. The short-circuit causes a loud bang and explosion and she half falls, half throws herself to the ground away from the missile. Emerson crouches and wheels around, gun trained on her…then crumples to his knees, a screwdriver protruding from his temple. 

‘Are you sure it’s not a weapon?’ Enyo quips, towering above him.

Raven scoffs in disbelief between panting breaths. Is she really making jokes seconds after killing a man? Enyo steps forward, leaning down so Raven can grab onto still-bound arm and pull herself up. 

Enyo had remembered that she still had a screwdriver in her pocket where she had stowed it earlier after helping to unscrew the casing. With her hands behind her back she had had the perfect chance to slip it out and hold it ready, waiting for her chance. The explosion had allowed her to whirl around and bury it into Emerson’s skull. Pirouetting with her hands bound had been no small feat and Raven was thoroughly, though silently, impressed at her agility. 

The explosion brought grounders running from the camp center. The immediately draw their weapons and glare suspiciously at Raven untying Enyo, a body dead at their feet. Enyo quickly reassures them that all is under control and orders that the body be removed. They comply without question, clearing the body away. A few remain to stand guard against further attacks, although the women feel there is little need for this now.

‘You’re pretty hot stuff around here, aren’t you?’ Raven comments, watching them scurry away.

‘When the commander gives you a mission you speak with her authority,’ she explains dismissively, though the darker hue in her cheeks shows that the compliment was not lost on her.

‘Are you hurt?’ she asks, changing the subject. 

‘Nah, no more than usual. I know enough about explosions to keep myself out of the way. Dunno how the gear is doing though,’ and she limps over to check on it.

‘Dammit!’ she mutters in dismay. ‘Wrecked a perfectly good flight system because of some idiot.’

Enyo seems amused that she’s more concerned about damage to the mechanism than their recent near-death experience.

‘Come. Sit,’ she says, motioning to a grassy spot nearby. ‘I’ve asked them to bring breakfast.’

Raven lowers herself next to her with a contended sigh. 

‘Guess you got some action after all,’ she offers.

Enyo just smiles.

======  
When Clarke wakes up her eyelids feel too heavy to move so she focuses on the sounds that reach her ear; the blip of machines, hushed voices, and chorus of breathing, low and even, quick and anxious, hurried and determined. It’s oddly soothing, the monotonous sounds of the infirmary, strangely like home. She feels nothing and is afraid to move in case it breaks the spell. 

She finally opens her eyes. Ceiling, dirty white and cracked, the edge of an IV bag hanging to her right. She looks down the length of her body and is surprised to see a head, brown hair braided messily, resting against the side of her bed. 

Lexa! Dozing from the looks of it. And in the infirmary no less! She smiles despite the stiffness in her jaw. Whatever will they say when word of this gets out? She wonders how long she’s been unconscious. 

A flicker of light to her left catches her attention and when she turns an involuntary chuckle escapes her lips. 

Lexa stirs, sitting up quickly.

‘Clarke! You’re awake!’ she says in a low, awestruck voice as if she had performed a magic trick.

‘You brought me candles?’ Clarke asks with an incredulous shake of her head. 

Lexa cracks a smile. ‘You said you missed them.’

She looks exhausted and worn from worrying, but she’s still the most beautiful sight in the world. Clarke reaches out to touch her face, lightly, gently, as if checking that it’s not an ethereal hologram. She doesn’t know how long she’s been asleep but waking up feels like being flung into another life. Finding Lexa there sends a wave of reassurance rushing through her. Lexa strokes her forehead tenderly, rubbing light patterns against her skin, and for the first time in a week Clarke feels safe.

She tries to move but immediately regrets it. She feels like she’s plummeted from a shuttle without a parachute. Muscles she didn’t even know existed are stiff and achy, apparently intent on punishing her for taking them for granted all these years. And there’s a different pain in her right leg, sharper, like a sting. She groans and presses her head hard into the pillow.

‘You’re ok,’ Lexa says soothingly. ‘You just need rest.’

‘How long have I been out?’

‘A day and a half. It’s the afternoon now.’

‘The fight…’

‘It is over. Only eight casualties, five of my warriors and three Skaikru. The wounded are being treated by your mother. They should all be ok.’

‘Lincoln?’

‘He is well,’ she says with a smile, motioning to a bed in the far corner of the room. 

Lincoln is sitting up in bed chatting animatedly with Octavia. His face is swollen and bruised but he appears to be whole. Clarke’s seen him come back from much worse.

‘Your friends are all well, Clarke.’

Lexa’s face fills with tenderness and pride as if to say, ‘You have done it. You have protected your people and saved the day. Put your mind at peace, my love.’ Clarke feels like she could live in that look.

‘I’m sorry about the warrior from Azgeda, the one Octavia and I…’

Lexa silences her with a gentle shake of her head. 

‘You did what needed to be done. I would’ve done the same.’ 

She gives Clarke an adoring smile. 

‘You’re people are lucky to have you.’

‘They’re lucky to have you!’ Clarke replies emphatically, reveling in the flush that rises in Lexa’s cheeks.

‘Pike?’

‘I’m afraid he did not make it,’ she says, with no hint of fear or pity in her voice.

Clarke reaches back for her memories, hazy from the drugs. She lands on a bloodcurdling war cry and whirl of swords as Lexa swooped in to save her. 

‘No, I suppose he wouldn’t have,’ she says with an impressed raise of her eyebrows. 

‘Thank you!’ she says softly, reaching out to squeeze Lexa’s hand.

‘I was just doing what was right for our people,’ she replies, but a tiny smirk tugs at the edge of her mouth which betrays her detachment.

Clarke smiles and shakes her head, squeezing her hand a little tighter. Lexa returns the gesture.

‘Skaikru has been given run of the camp. There are mixed feelings about my involvement. Some feel I broke my word by entering the camp and interfering,’ she sighs, as if she is used to her actions being continually misinterpreted. ‘Elections will be held tomorrow to choose the next chancellor. Peace will be renegotiated between us with whomever is chosen.’

‘But, surely the 12 clans will see this as a sign of weakness on your part.’

‘Only if your new chancellor refuses our agreement. We’ll worry about that if we have to,’ she says with a shrug, as if it would be folly to waste any energy thinking about what might be. ‘The ambassadors have no need to know every step of our negotiations.’

Clarke looks into her eyes. Once again she’s giving her people time, allowing them to accept the arrangement on their own terms and sticking her neck out in the process. Even after all they’ve done. Her heart swells with gratitude, eyes growing moist with emotion. She tries to find the right words to convey it. But Lexa’s eyes are warm and enveloping as they meet hers. They seem to reach out and embrace her thoughts, taking them in, knowing. Clarke revels in the understanding.

‘I’ve heard rumors that your name will be on the ballot,’ she says, breaking the silence.

‘Oh no,’ Clarke groans, rolling her eyes dramatically.

‘I think you would make an excellent chancellor, Wanheda. You have proven your talent as a leader time and again.’

‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to respectfully decline,’ she says. ‘You see, I’m already the Skaikru ambassador to Polis and I can’t do both jobs at once.’

Lexa smiles, a full, beautiful smile.

‘Polis will be pleased.’

‘Polis, or you?’

Lexa just smiles; taking her hand gently in both of hers and pressing a long kiss into her palm. Clarke closes her eyes, relishing the feeling. 

‘We’re you here this whole time?’ she asks.

‘Most of it,’ she replies, still stroking Clarke’s hand. It sends soothing ripples through her body and she feels like it’s the antidote to anything.

‘I had some things to sort out back at the camp once I had ensured you were out of danger, but I returned as quickly as I could.’

‘Raven?’

‘She is well. She had some excitement of her own but I will let her tell you.’

Clarke nods.

‘Speaking of which, I must return. The guilty are set to be tried in a few hours and the army will be breaking up to return home. I must preside over the proceedings.’

‘Bellamy,’ Clarke says.

Lexa nods. ‘His wounds are being treated but it is nothing serious. He is among those who will be tried for the massacre of Indra’s army and the attack on Semet’s village.’

She watches Clarke’s face intently, gauging her reaction.

‘But he tried to stop Pike,’ Clarke begins.

‘Unfortunately, not being willing to watch you die does not erase everything he has done. Much blood has been shed and justice must be served. But,’ she continues in a low voice, seeing the conflict in Clarke’s eyes, ‘it will be tempered with mercy. Enough have died here. It is not my intention to kill any more.’

Clarke nods again. She realizes she has no fear leaving this in Lexa’s hands. How far they’ve come from her first arrival in Polis. Lexa shifts in her seat, preparing to leave. 

‘I will let your mother know you are awake.’

‘But I just got here. Do you have to go?’ Clarke asks, with a trace of a pout. 

The drugs have lowered her restraint and Lexa finds the childish gesture irresistibly endearing. She leans in, gently brushing her nose against Clarke’s before pressing their foreheads together. 

‘There will be time for that, Clarke,’ she whispers against her. ‘We have successfully moved beyond surviving.’

A thrill of elation goes through her at these words. They have! They’ve done it. This mess is over and she’s free to just be. She smiles and nudges their lips closer, breathing in her air. Lexa pulls away slightly, motioning with her head at the twenty plus others they share the infirmary with. 

‘Is Heda shy?’ Clarke teases and she’s greeted with an appropriate scowl.

‘Rest well, Clarke. I shall return when I can.’

With a last squeeze of her hand she rises and heads for the door. Clarke watches her leave and is greeted with a turn and a smile as she slips out, leaving Clarke to bask in the warm, giddy feeling that permeates her body.

She has only a few minutes to try and wrap her head around the fact that it’s over when her mother hurries in.

‘Lexa told me you were awake. How are you feeling?’

‘Somewhere between bad and grateful it’s not worse. How am I doing?’

‘There is no serious damage. You lost a lot of blood but the knife kept you from bleeding out. Lexa staunched the flow as soon as she got to you. We had to give you a transfusion but you’re recovering well. The wound isn’t infected and should heal up alright, but it went through your calf muscle so you’ll need to go easy on your leg for a few weeks until the fibers have a chance to reattach.’

Clarke nods, taking it all in. ‘Thanks, mom. Sorry if I scared you.’

Abby squeezes her shoulder reassuringly.

‘It’s been a scary couple of weeks, but you were right, right about Lexa. She kept her word; more than that I dare say.’

Clarke smiles a little too big when she hears that.

‘I thought she was gonna have a heart attack when she brought you in. Trying to keep a stiff upper lip but she was sick with worry. Would’ve killed all the other wounded to make sure you got full attention. Spent hours by your side.’

Clarke looks up, catching the knowing glint in Abby’s eyes. 

‘Does this mean you’re going back to Polis?’ she asks.

‘I think it does,’ Clarke replies.

Abby offers her a smile. 

‘You seem happy, Clarke. After all you’ve had to do, this may just be your chance.’

‘I am happy, mom.’

And lying there, bruised and wounded, she realizes she’s the happiest she’s ever been. 

Her mother putters about, checking her vitals, changing the bandage. Clarke leans back, mind blank. The thought that she has absolutely nothing to think about is delicious. 

When her mom moves on to check on the other patients she lifts up slowly, testing the effect on her head. She feels light and a bit woozy, but finds that it passes after a few minutes. She stands and hobbles over to where Octavia has now climbed into Lincoln’s bed, small body pressed into his side. 

‘You two better stop being so mushy or you’re gonna kill the other patients,’ she says by way of greeting.

‘Oh, don’t think we didn’t see the sap dripping from your bed a minute ago,’ Octavia counters. ‘The only reason I got into Lincoln’s bed was to avoid being drowned in your goo.’

Clarke smiles and turns to Lincoln.

‘Thanks,’ she says, ‘for stopping Pike. Wouldn’t have made it without you.’

He shrugs by way of accepting her apology.

‘I’d been wanting to ram into him for a while. It just so happened to be a good time for it.’

She smirks at his deflection and pats his shoulder. 

‘I owe you, Linc.’


	6. The post-war dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw  
> (which is why I'm uploading during work hours :P)

The mood is tense and heavy in the courtyard once again, although nothing compared to that ghastly scene of the previous day. Bellamy, his right arm in a sling, Hannah, and five others are standing near the gate guarded by Miller, Octavia, and two Grounders, a symbolic blend of the two peoples. A makeshift podium has been erected in the center. All of Arkadia has gathered to watch the proceedings, irritable and bored as people tend to get after they have willingly packed themselves into a throng for an event, only to have to wait for it to start.

Lexa stands at the front of the podium, regal in her full Commander armor. She seems to emanate a strength and calm which contrasts with the anxious tension, as if a thousand storms could break against her and she would not be moved. She's flanked by a group of Grounders, Indra, Roan and Enyo among them, as well as Kane, Abby, and a member of Farm Station Clarke does not recognize. 

Clarke takes in the sight of her, watching her calculating green eyes survey the crowd as the wind plays with her cloak. Lexa was right! She was born for this. Clarke’s never seen anyone more suited for the role. She embodies power with a natural poise that inspires confidence, loyalty, and fear. She is both a soothing balm and a raging force. Clarke can see why she was the first to unite the 12 clans.

She's leaning weakly against a building after convincing a nurse to help her slip out to watch the trial. She turns her attention to the audience now. It's hard to read the crowd's mood. They don't know Lexa, have only seen her from afar and heard stories, mostly bad ones. Up until yesterday she was the enemy, and now she is standing here, set up as judge over their fellow Arkadians. The air is tense, perhaps even slightly hostile, but Lexa appears unmoved.

'People of Arkadia,' she begins, her voice resonating easily throughout the crowd. 'I have promised you your own elections and your right to choose your government, which will judge you in future, this has not changed. But the crimes these people are accused of were not against you but against the coalition, against defenseless villages and peacekeeping troops, and as Commander of the Coalition it is my duty to preside over their trial. I know that in war one will do anything to protect their people, especially when obeying their general's commands, and that is why you do not see the other members of Pike's guard standing trial today. But even in war there are rules; we do not slaughter people as they sleep or attack old men and children, and it is for these crimes that they stand trial today. 

‘I am told it is customary,’ she continues glancing at Kane, ‘for these things to be determined by a panel of judges, and so I have invited leaders from both our peoples to counsel me in this decision. Let us begin.'

And with a wave of her hand, the trial is underway.

Indra speaks first, describing how her army was butchered, the wounded executed. Then Octavia takes the stage, telling of the boy in the woods, of Semet's village. She stares resolutely at the judges while making her address, only meeting Bellamy’s eye at the end, with only a hint of regret. It is time for truth and Octavia has never been one to shy away from it regardless of the consequences. Miller next, corroborated by Monty, reveals the existence of the missiles and the plans to wipe out the Grounders.

Clarke feels the mood shift. There are still skeptics, but hearing fellow Arkadians describe the atrocities planned and perpetuated by Pike and his cohorts is shocking. Raven comes last. She says nothing but turns on a recording she made of Pike coolly describing how the missiles will wipe out the Grounder army, leaving the villages defenseless, followed by a discussion featuring the accused on which settlement to attack first and how old a child has to be to be considered a threat. 

Clarke turns back Lexa. She remains stoic but there's a twitch in her jaw that Clarke can just make out over the distance. She imagines the pain pooling underneath the controlled focus in her eyes; her beautiful, expressive eyes that speak more powerfully than words. Clarke knows she's imagining how close her people came to suffering the fate so callously described.

When the recording is finished the accused are invited to speak in their defense. Hannah defends their actions, decrying the Grounders as feckless savages. Indra glares and grips the hilt of her sword, itching to make short end of her blatant insults, but an icy look from Lexa holds her back.

Bellamy is more contrite, attempting to justify his actions by the rage and confusion following Mt. Weather, but the excuse rings hollow even to his ears and he settles on an apology in the end. The others pass up their chance to speak.

When they are done Lexa gathers her advisors and they deliberate for a quarter of an hour. Clarke shifts her weight again, craving a seat but curious to hear the judgement in real-time. The crowd holds their own discussion, each coming to their own conclusions and verdicts. 

They fall silent when Lexa turns again and raises a hand.

'We have reached a decision. By the laws of both our people the punishment for these crimes should be death.'

A collective gasp ripples through the crowd. True, they had been leaning towards guilty, but death? Clarke too, is taken aback, wondering at the words Lexa spoke in the infirmary. She had been sincere. But her position was precarious after the blows inflicted by Skaikru. Had Lexa succumbed to the pressure from the heads of the clans? 

But ‘should be’?

'However,' she continues, speaking over the rising voices, 'these lands have already seen far too much death and a group execution is no way to begin our newfound peace. Therefore I declare the guilty banished from the 13 clans. There are other territories to be explored and settled and they should be capable of finding a new home.’

Clarke sighs in relief with the rest of the onlookers.

'But,' Lexa continues, 'if they set foot on these lands again they will be subject to a kill order.'

Whispered discussions break out again, but the evidence of their atrocities, both committed and planned, has influenced their opinions and the majority seem to feel the sentence is fair, even lenient, to those who suffered under Pike's regime.

'I will leave you now to host your elections, I expect you will chose wisely' Lexa concludes and she sweeps off the podium and through the parting crowd with her entourage.

There is a small commotion following her departure as the prisoners are led back to a room temporarily designed as a holding cell and preparations for the elections are made. Clarke is soon spotted by her mother who finds her a seat at the front with the other candidates after making sure she is ok.

Clarke’s first move is to remove her name from the ballot, thanking them for the nomination but explaining that she's just not ready to take it on. Some in the crowd seem disappointed, especially the youth, but her battered and bandaged state affords her a measure of sympathy from them and they don’t push for it too hard.

Kane and Abby are the only remaining candidates. They make their speeches in turn, laying all the cards on the table, how they intend to join the coalition and work with the Grounders, trading technology and knowledge for food, Earth skills, and protection. Their speeches are positive and hope-filled, not a hint of rivalry between them, and Clarke lets the feeling of joy wash over her.

Maybe someday...

She hadn't really dared to hope it would come this soon.

Then the ballots are passed out and tallied. Kane wins with two-thirds of the votes and Abby congratulates him with an affectionate hug that does not go unnoticed by Clarke.

He makes his address, apologizing for jumping into the coalition without explaining it to them. He extols the Commander's actions in all her dealings with them since Mt. Weather and expounds on the benefits of the coalition. But he explains that the choice is theirs. In return they would be agreeing to support Lexa and the other clans, even go to war for them if need be, and recognize her as their Commander as well.

'Don't forget, they went to war for us,' Octavia interjects, and Clarke is surprised to hear her taking Lexa's side. 'The Commander left her capital and risked everything to end this struggle with the least possible bloodshed. The very general who's army we murdered came through those gates yesterday, measuring her strength so that she didn't take a single life in overpowering the guards. They've shown themselves to be better and more honorable than we have, it's about time we step up and do the same.'

Her speech is met with mixed reactions, especially considering she's dressed in Grounder clothes with a sword strapped to her back. But after yesterday's events and the trial this morning the Grounders are held in higher esteem and nods of approval ripple through the audience.

Kane announces another vote. For the first time in the history of the Ark all members will be given equal opportunity to decide their fate. He will vote alongside them and promises to abide by their decision whatever it may be.

Clarke is tense as she waits, knowing what this could mean for Lexa. She's risked everything to protect them under the claim that it was her duty to protect the 13th clan. But if they reject the coalition now, will the 12 clans still stand behind her? She meets Kane's eye, who seems to share in some of her doubts. After all, it was not long ago that they voted Pike, with his 'Death to Grounders' slogan, into power.

But she understands why he’s doing it. Her people have been bullied and coerced, forced into one desperate situation after another. It’s time they have some say in their future, time they are given a choice, and she knows they will be better for it.

The votes are counted again and Kane meets Clarke’s eye jubilantly before announcing that the people have decided to join the Coalition. He will meet with the Commander to work out the details of their trade agreements but announces a feast that night to celebrate their victories and the future that awaits them. This is met by the first cheer from the crowd.

\------

Clarke limps slowly back to the infirmary, exhausted by the last few hours. Abby accompanies her, saying the bandage could use changing. They’re doing just that when Raven walks in for a checkup.

‘I see you got a new scar, Griffin. I’d better be careful lest you catch up.’

‘Raven!’ Clarke exclaims. ‘What happened? Lexa said there was some excitement back at the camp.’

‘Emerson,’ she replies swinging onto the bed opposite her. ‘He snuck up and wanted to use the weapons to wipe us out. Enyo an’ I took him down.’

‘Enyo?’

‘This warrior chick Lexa assigned to guard me. Knows her shit. Could be a decent mechanic too, something none of you airheads ever bothered with.’

Clarke smiles. Raven was upbeat, lighter than she’d seen her since their war on the mountain. 

‘Glad to see you’re making friends,’ she teases. 

‘Well, they’re not half bad up close. No worse than you lot. And I kind of have to seeing as I’ll be heading back to Polis.’

‘You what?’

‘Lexa asked me too. They’re taking the warheads back. Figure they’ll be safer where no one knows how to use them, which I tend to agree with. I’m going along to make sure they’re good and dead and stored properly. Apparently I’m their goddess of explosives and they only feel safe with them if I’m part of the deal.’

‘Goddess of explosives, huh?’ Clarke says with a roll of her eyes. ‘And you had nothing to do with that title?’

‘Hey, I just give the people what they want, Wanheda,’ she says with an exaggeratedly modest shrug. 

‘Alright you two,’ Abby interrupts, ‘I need to check on Raven’s leg. You can save your hero-title discussion for later.’

Clarke hops off the bed with a smirk, careful to land on the right leg. 

‘Don’t take too long. I hear people are hungry.’

\-------

Arkadia is alive with laughter, animated discussions, and the sound of silverware on plates as Lexa reenters with a small party. Kane greets her at the gates, welcoming her and inviting her to sit with him. She agrees and they discuss trivial matters and Polis gossip as the food is served. They are treated to a range of dishes, of both sky and ground origin and enjoy tasting and explaining them to each other. The mood is light and for once their cultures seem to be shared instead of pitted against each other.

The chattering quietens as Lexa raises a glass. The guests all scurry to find their own. 

‘To the 13th clan,’ she says, a proud smile teasing her lips, ‘may we grow in prosperity together.’

‘Hear, hear,’ the guests reply, drinking deeply.

‘And to Lincoln kom Trikru and Octavia kom Skaikru, who believed in this peace when all else doubted it, treating our peoples as one before our ceremonies made it so.’

Her eyes catch Lincoln’s, who gives her a firm nod of gratitude at her recognition. It somehow validated all that he’d been through. Octavia too, nods back firmly. Sure, Lexa had been willing to sacrifice her life on several occasions, but she now knew it was nothing she wouldn’t do herself. Indra was right, she was the Commander they needed.

‘And to our Commander,’ Kane adds, raising his own glass, ‘whose vision has made our dreams of peace a reality.’

Lexa offers him a sincere smile and lifts her glass in acknowledgement.

After the toasts the chattering continues with renewed vigor. Raven spots Enyo loitering at one end of the table and motions her over.

‘It’s my turn to offer you food,’ she says.

Enyo accepts with a smile. Raven pours her some punch made of questionable ingredients and they raise their glasses in a toast of their own. 

‘To screwdrivers!’ Enyo proposes, and Raven clinks her glass with a smirk.

She notices Enyo’s eyes linger on her scarred bicep.

‘A little gift from your Commander,’ she says, turning her arm to reveal it.

‘Our Commander,’ Enyo corrects. ‘TonDC. I remember. I have one too.’ 

She shows her the forearm of her right arm, a long thin line running half the length of it. 

‘You? But what were you accused of?’

‘No, it wasn’t like that. We were kids in neighboring villages, before she became Heda. We took to sparring one day. We were all passion and swinging limbs and very little technique. A dangerous mixture,’ she says with a reminiscent smile.

‘And a much better story than mine,’ Raven retorts.

‘True,’ Enyo says, tracing her scar lightly, ‘but scars show we have lived fearlessly. 

‘And besides, they’re sexy,’ she adds, raising her eyes to meet Raven’s unabashed.

Raven holds her gaze for a moment before turning back to her food. The conversation turns to what food they ate in the sky and Enyo is equal parts fascinated and skeptical at her stories.

They’re interrupted when Lexa herself walks up. 

‘Raven,’ she nods, but the tone is more friendly than commanding, though the air of authority is still there, ‘have you seen Clarke? I am told she left the infirmary.’

‘She was here a while ago. I think she went back to one of the rooms to rest.’

‘Thank you,’ Lexa replies, heading off with her guard in tow. 

‘Those two, huh,’ Raven smirks with a shake of her head. ‘Should’ve known.’

‘Oh, I assure you, our Commander is quite smitten,’ Enyo replies, and they share a conspiratorial smile before attacking dessert.

\------- 

Clarke stirs when she hears her door shut, then bolts upright in shock.

‘I’m sorry,’ Lexa whispers, ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’

Clarke just smiles, leaning back in the bed, thinking she could grow old waking up to that face. Lexa pulls up a chair and sits near her.

‘How did it go with the clans?’

‘Well. We have said our farewells. They depart at dawn after gathering their strength.’

‘And you? Have you gathered any strength these last few days?’

‘I dozed next to your bed this morning,’ she replies sheepishly. ‘I was hoping to do so again.’

‘No,’ Clarke replies.

Lexa’s look goes from mildly stunned to crestfallen. Then she swallows down her disappointment and nods stoically. She craves nothing more than just being near Clarke for a few hours, but she understands that she might want to be alone.

‘I just mean, you don’t have to stay in the chair,’ Clarke adds quickly with a chiding shake of her head as she scoots over in the narrow bed.

Lexa smiles at the invitation. She takes off her boots and daggers and climbs in gently, careful not to disturb Clarke. There’s a brief moment of hesitation before she moves close, snuggling into her, her nose gently nuzzling her shoulder.

‘Although, you might be more comfortable in your own bed,’ Clarke adds, considering the width of the matress.

But she knows the words are untrue as soon as she’s spoken them. Lexa grows soft in her arms, their warm bodies melting together. She reaches down to stroke her back, lightly running her hand up and down her spine, imagining the tingles spreading from her fingers to Lexa. Lexa lets out a little sigh and curls her fingers in her shirt at her stomach, slipping a leg over Clarke’s. It’s such simple contact, but to be able to lie here pressed together, unhurried, with no impending threat hanging over them is a luxury they haven’t had since they met, and it means the world to them. They stay that way, sharing the silence, savoring the feel of each other’s bodies.

‘I saw you today, during the trial,’ Clarke finally says, her voice low. ‘You were all just and benevolent.’

She feels the little smile that pulls at Lexa’s mouth as a tinge creeps over her cheeks. 

‘If I had known you were there I would have invited you to join the council.’

‘That’s why I didn’t say anything,’ she replies, continuing to trace patterns in her back. ‘I wanted to watch.’

‘Do you enjoy watching me, Clarke kom Skaikru?’ she asks mischievously, turning her head to look at Clarke.

Clarke smiles undaunted, meeting her eyes. 

‘Always,’ she replies, and tilts Lexa’s chin up so she can reach her lips.

The kiss is light and gently. Lexa kisses back softly, savoring the feel of her, warm and heady and addicting. Her hand reaches up to tangle in Clarke’s hair. The continue to kiss softly, then more deeply, tongues caressing and exploring. But when her teeth tease Clarke’s bottom lip a low groan in Clarke’s throat tells her her thirst is awakened. Her kisses become hungry, passionate, and Lexa lets out a moan of surprise as desire shoots through her body. Clarke’s hand presses into her lower back to bring her closer, into her, her tongue wet and dizzy and intoxicating in her mouth.

Lexa shifts onto her to get a better angle, inadvertently pushing her thigh down between Clarke’s legs. Clarke lets out a quick, shivery gasp that makes her stomach summersault. She can’t believe she’s here, with Clarke, staring into eyes heavy with longing. She swallows down the incredulous lump in her throat. Clarke looks up at her, taking in the beautiful face, the swollen lips and green eyes, dark with desire. She pulls her down again, lips parting in anticipation, and Lexa kisses her deeply, purposely, pressing her lithe body against her. Clarke feels like she’s drowning in the power of the kiss, but also like she wouldn’t mind if she did. She reaches for Lexa’s waist, pulling her in, arching up to meet her.

But suddenly, Lexa stops, pulling her lips away, head pressing into Clarke’s forehead. 

‘We shouldn’t,’ she says, exhaling deeply. ‘You’re wounded.’

‘You gotta be kidding me,’ Clarke says, somewhere between amusement and exasperation. 

‘You need rest.’

‘I need you,’ Clarke replies, straining up to bite her neck. Lexa shivers and Clarke feels it in her own body.

‘I must return to Polis tomorrow. I was hoping maybe you would come with me,’ she explains through shaky breaths. ‘But I don’t want you to travel if you’re not well.’

And she eases her body off of Clarke’s, resting it beside her again.

‘Oh, and you really think I’ll be able to sleep now in the state you got me in?’ she asks.

Lexa realizes she has a point, she can feel the electric tension in her body and if Clarke’s desire is anything like her own she knows there will be no chance of sleep.

‘Come on,’ Clarke says, slipping her hand under Lexa’s shirt to stroke her stomach, ‘I want you!’ this in a husky whisper.

She knows Lexa wouldn’t hesitate if their positions were reversed, but she’s still cautious with Clarke, not wanting to push her beyond what she’s comfortable with. It’s noble and endearing, but fucking frustrating right now. 

‘We’ll be gentle,’ she continues. 

She turns and presses kisses into Lexa’s jaw, moving up her neck until she finds a spot near her ear that makes her shudder. She sucks hard and Lexa lets out a sharp gasp, pressing her legs together. 

‘Beja, Lexa,’ she whispers, and it’s the last straw. 

Lexa’s dying to have her; dying to please her, and the plea pushes her off the edge of control. She slips back on top of her, letting her weight rest against Clarke’s hips as she kisses her hard, her tongue teasing her mouth and making Clarke dream of other pleasures. Clarke fumbles at her pants, trying to angle herself up without putting weight on her leg. Lexa helps her take them off and presses down again, feeling the thrill of her bare leg against Clarke’s. She moves against Clarke slowly, purposefully, pressing her thigh between her legs and the look of pleasure in Clarke’s face makes her bite her lip hard to keep control.

Clarke’s sleeping shorts are loose and flimsy and she easily slips a hand inside them only to find she’s not wearing underwear. She moans uncontrollably at the shock when she finds Clarke soft and wet underneath, lips slick and swollen, begging to be worshipped.

Clarke exhales sharply and bites her lip, not sure if she’s more excited by the touch or the unrestrained sound that escaped Lexa’s lips. It takes all of Lexa’s self-restraint to move slowly, caressing the length of her opening firmly all the way up, drawing out the sensations. Clarke’s head presses back into the pillow as she pushes her hips up, angling into Lexa. 

‘Let me take care of you,’ Lexa whispers, stroking her face.

And Clarke tries to relax but her body is shivering with pleasure, as Lexa rubs lazy circles around her swollen clit. Her muscles tense and Lexa increases the rhythm ever so slightly, watching her, drinking in her pleasure. She presses a kiss to Clarke’s panting lips, catching her hollow gasp as she moves down to push inside her. 

She stops for a minute, waiting, forehead pressed against Clarke’s, giving her time to catch her breath. Then she pulls back slightly and rocks into her with her hips, slowly, deliberately, intensifying the feeling, allowing each tingling nerve to have their say. Clarke whimpers into her neck and Lexa feels her own desire explode at the sound, wetness spreading between her thighs. She continues to thrust at a steady rhythm, careful of Clarke’s leg. She doesn’t need to go any faster, their bodies are raw bundles of nerves, rippling with tension, and Clarke is already on the edge. She reaches up clumsily, trying to find her own way between Lexa’s thighs. Lexa shifts slightly and she connects. 

Lexa is so wet Clarke lets out a shuddering gasp when she feels her. The sight of her struggling bursts Lexa’s restraint. She hooks her fingers, searching for the spot just near her opening. She knows she’s found it when Clarke’s nails dig into her shoulder. She teases it for a moment before applying just enough pressure, thumb on her clit. It only takes a few more thrusts to push Clarke over the edge. Clarke’s body shivers in release as she lets out a beautiful, shaky moan. Lexa presses against her, sinking her teeth gently into her shoulder, savoring the tremors in her body as she comes down. 

Clarke opens her eyes and looks at her, a beautiful smile on her face. 

‘Damn!’ she whispers, still breathless. 

Lexa smiles back.

Clarke’s fingers are still against her and she begins moving them again as she regains some control of her body. Lexa bends her knees, straddling Clarke’s hips to give her better access. Clarke smiles again, teasingly, slipping just the tip of her fingers into Lexa’s opening. Lexa whimpers and moves her hips down, pushing Clarke inside her. Clarke gasps at the feel of her, the soft tender flesh gripping her fingers. Inside her! God, it feels so fucking good to be inside her! She holds her hand still and lets Lexa set the rhythm, feeling her hips press down against her, knees gripping her thighs; watching her back arch deliciously in pleasure, her breasts pushing against her shirt. 

‘Fuck, you’re beautiful!’ she exhales.

And Lexa pushes down harder. Clarke can feel she’s close, muscles contracting against her fingers. She swirls them firmly inside, her and Lexa buckles, head thrown back as she comes with a stifled, half-swallowed cry. 

She slumps forward, head pressing into the wall behind Clarke as she tries to calm her breathing. Clarke strokes her thighs gently, eyes closed, reveling in the moment. A moment later Lexa slowly lifts herself off of Clarke and settles back down next to her, pulling the blanket gently over them. 

‘Thank you,’ Clarke says through heavy breaths. ‘I swear that’s the best remedy there is.’

Lexa smiles and presses gentle kisses into Clarke’s jaw and neck. She curls her body into hers and Clarke basks in the feel of her, legs tangled together, arm protectively over her stomach. She feels warm and safe and exhilarated all at once! 

‘Reshop, Lexa,’ she whispers, holding her close.

‘Reshop, ai niron,’ comes the sleepy reply, and Clarke’s lips pull into a wide smile at the endearment.

Lexa falls asleep almost instantly, her body heavy with exhaustion and release. Clarke sinks into it more slowly, listening to Lexa’s even breathing, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against her. The sensations are new and intimate and unfamiliar, and yet, she feels more whole and complete than ever! Like for the first time in her life she’s found something that completely makes sense. 

Lexa is a peaceful sleeper, so small and vulnerable, just a tired little person trying her best to do right by the whole world. She breathes a little sigh and Clarke’s smile widen, overwhelmed by all the feelings such a tiny gesture bring up. She presses a gentle kiss to her forehead and is soon lulled to sleep by the comfort of her heartbeat.


	7. The hero's return

'Come on, Griffin! Even Wanheda can't make everyone wait forever,' Raven calls good-naturedly from the truck.

Clarke shakes her head in mock annoyance and continues to collect the last of the medical supplies from her mom. There are bandages, antiseptics, local anesthetics, and an assortment of needles, syringes and IV bags, enough to set up a rudimentary infirmary in Polis.

Abby motions her to sit while she fusses over her bandage, rechecking the tape, fixing things that don't need fixing.

'I'll miss you too, mom,' Clarke says with a chuckle.

Abby sighs, realizing her nervous behavior is just a ploy to keep Clarke near a little longer.

'You're welcome to come visit anytime, you know' Clarke says. ‘Now that you’re not chancellor you can get out more. I’m sure their healers would be happy to learn from you.

‘Maybe I will. But so are you!’ she replies. ‘Don’t forget to come home once in a while.’

She pulls her in for a hug and Clarke holds her tight, arms tensing around her as her body relaxes. For all her chiding she knows she’ll miss her two. They’ve been so busy being chancellor/doctor and…whatever title you want to give saving everyone’s ass repeatedly, that the simple little mother-daughter things had fallen through the cracks. 

'You did well, Clarke! More than I could've imagined!’ Abby whispers proudly. ‘Now leave off saving everyone for a minute and enjoy yourself.'

Clarke smiles, 'I hope to.'

A blast of the horn makes them both jump and Clarke gives her mother one last squeeze before walking over and climbing in next to Octavia. Raven is already sprawled out in the back, leg flung on the seat.

'Geez! Now I see why Lexa sent us to come get you,' she says with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

Clarke just smiles, leaning her head against the headrest as they roll out. Just beyond the gate they are met by Lexa and a group of thirty or so warriors on horseback. They’re not wearing warpaint but all are armed and ready. She hopes a show of strength will be all that is required today.

'Our entourage,' Raven quips. 'Or I should say the warheads', our skinny asses aren't worth that much.' 

Clarke laughs and looks out the window, catching Lexa's eye. She feels the tension low in her stomach, a mix between a pull and a flutter which ripples through her body. She gives her a flirtatious smile, teeth teasing her bottom lip. Lexa’s eyes twinkle back as she struggles to control the grin that pulls at her mouth. Clarke revels in the effect she has on her. She's riding close, protective, and Clarke savors the feel of it.

She thinks back to that morning. She had woken up to find Lexa dressing silently by the bed. It had taken a few moments to register where they were and how they had spent the night.

'Hey, where are you going?' she asked, voice thick with sleep.

Lexa sat back on the edge of the bed, turning towards her. Her eyes were a deeper emerald in the half-light, wells of emotion that sparkled and yearned and lavished. Clarke had seen the boundlessness of space, but it felt shallow compared to the universe in Lexa’s eyes. She pressed her cool fingers to Clarke’s cheek and Clarke leaned into the touch. 

'Rest,' she whispered back softly. 'I'm going to make sure everything is ready for our departure. I'll be back for you.'

A flash of disappointment crossed her face at the thought of Lexa leaving. She reached up, pulling her into a kiss. It was rich and deep and tender, and left her shivering in a way that wasn't entirely sexual; as if her very being was awakened on those lips. She kept her eyes closed, savoring the intoxication of emotions churning inside of her. Was this what love was? It was warm and soft and satisfying but also scary and exhilarating. You were all at once in your body and a stranger to it, control given over to feelings that made you shudder and smile as your muscles tensed and your insides turned to jelly. You were suddenly aware of the need to breathe and each breath a shivering torrent of emotions bursting for an outlet. It was the ultimate high and she never wanted to be in control again.

She opened her eyes when she felt Lexa smile against her lips, realizing she'd noticed her mind mind had been racing. Clarke pressed their lips together again before she had a chance to move. Her heart jumped once more at the contact and she leaned up, chasing Lexa’s lips, sucking, biting, needing. Kissing her was like nothing she’d ever done before. 

They finally broke apart when they literally couldn’t breathe and Clarke missed her lips the moment they parted.

'I'm so happy you're coming back with me,' Lexa confessed in a low, breathy voice.

'Me too,' Clarke replied, with a smile that jumped to her lips unbidden.

\------

'So, you and Lexa, huh?' 

Raven interrupts her reverie with a jab to the shoulder. 

'Look at you, grinning like some kind of idiot.'

Despite Clarke's best efforts the comment only makes her smile widen.

'I heard she spent the night in Arkadia, didn't hear anything about a room being prepared though,’ Octavia adds, willingly joining the ribbing. ‘No safety protocols either. I can’t imagine that was a very rational decision,' 

'There were guards,' Clarke counters quickly, before realizing that she's just confirming their assumptions.

'Yeah, deaf ones, I hope,' Raven retorts.

Clarke hates the blush that creeps into her cheeks as the events of the night before flood into her mind. She tries to suppress them, clenching her muscles to stop the little shivers of desire that begin to play on her skin where she had been touched or kissed.

'She's alright,' Raven concedes after a moment of silence, as if her judgement on the matter was awaited.

Somehow those two words from Raven's lips mean the world to Clarke. 

'She's more than alright,' she replies, in a half-whisper, her lips uncontrollably pulling into another smile.

Which of course only opens the floor to more teasing.

\------

Somehow her mother had also found out about Lexa's sleeping arrangements and was none too pleased.

'I hear Lexa spent the night,' she said by way of greeting when Clarke walked into the infirmary, a cat nap and a shower after Lexa had left. 'I told her you needed rest.'

'What'd you do that for?' Clarke replied, mortified at the thought of Lexa's embarrassment during the conversation.

'Because you do,’ Abby said matter-of-factly.

'Don't worry, she was all about rest,’ Clarke replied rolling her eyes, a barely perceptible hint of disappointment in her voice. 

‘I hear she’s leaving today,’ Abby said, her tone growing soft as she checked on Clarke’s stitches.

‘Yes,’ Clarke replied, feeling the air grow thicker.

‘I’m going back too,’ she added after a pause, sensing Abby’s underlying question, ‘to continue as ambassador.’ 

‘Do you have to leave so soon?’ Abby asked with a sigh. ‘Things only just settled down. You haven’t been home in forever.’

‘I don’t have to, I just…’ Clarke trailed off, not sure how to continue. Her feelings were unmistakable. But how could she do them justice with words? 

‘It doesn’t really feel like home here,’ she said at last. ‘And Polis…it kinda does. I miss it.’

‘You miss her,’ Abby said knowingly.

Clarke just nodded, thinking how she missed Lexa already even though it had only been a few hours since they had parted.

‘She loves you, you know,’ Abby said after a moment’s silence.

Clarke turned to her in shock.

‘I didn’t think she could. Or at least, I thought she would never allow herself too. I was worried when you decided to stay in Polis. I could see that you cared. Not just about us, but about her. You were protective of her, even when you were angry. It scared me. I thought she was just using you to further her plans.’

Abby turned back to wrapping a clean bandage around her leg, giving Clarke time to process her words.

‘But in the infirmary yesterday, she was quiet and reserved like she always is, but I thought she was gonna pass out from worrying. She was gripping your bed until her knuckles turned white, watching my every move as if she could piece you back together by sheer will. And the way she talks about you, it’s softer, the look she gets in her eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such devotion,’ she concluded with an impressed sigh. 

Clarke found herself speechless. She knew Lexa loved her, of course, but to hear her mom say it so matter-of-factly made a lump rise in her throat.

‘She’s a good one,’ Abby said with a pat to Clarke’s leg. ‘Despite what she’s done. I can see that now.’

Clarke smiled, ‘Thanks, mom.’

‘Mrs. Griffin, you’re needed at the holding cell to check on the prisoners before they leave.’

‘I’ll be right there.’

‘They’re leaving today?’ Clarke asked.

‘Abby nodded. ‘None of them have any serious wounds that require them to stay. Lexa is dispatching a group of warriors to take them to the edge of the territory.’

Clarke grew quiet at the news. She hadn’t spoken to Bellamy since that day at lunch which now seemed like ages ago. He had tried to save her from Pike and seemed contrite at the trial yesterday. But she thought of his dogged efforts to disrupt the peace, his disregard for Grounder lives, his arrogant distortion of facts to justify his behavior, and was hit with a flash of rage. 

But she also thought back on their history, all that had happened since they came to the ground, all they had been asked to do. The impossible decisions they had been unprepared to make. It had been enough pain and pressure for a lifetime, squished into a few months. She knew. She had felt it. She had left when it was too much. She remembered her arrival in Polis, how she had been ready to take Lexa’s life; well, maybe. She had considered it at least. Her rage and guilt and despair had consumed her too. Where would she be if she hadn’t had Lexa to lash out at, to rage against? Lexa who had remained calm and understanding, who had absorbed her anger and hatred, recognizing it as self-loathing, and looked at her in a way that made her believe she could push on, that she could be broken and strong at the same time. Lexa had looked at her and suddenly she found the strength to live again. Could she have made it without that? She would never have become a butcher, but would she still be alive?

She decided to be there when they were sent away.

\------

‘Clarke,’ Bellamy said as she approached. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d come.’

‘We’re friends, right. Friends stick around even when friends are idiots.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly after a pause. ‘I just, I really thought I was doing the right thing. I was just so angry after Mt. Weather! I needed to do something. I wasn’t thinking.’

Clarke held his eyes, feeling his need to explain, to try and justify his actions so he could live with himself. She could see his pain, augmented by the guilt he had added to it. But everyone was in pain, everyone had lost.

‘I get it,’ she said at last. ‘Trust me, I know what anger feels like, the need to let it out, to do something. That’s why I had to leave. I couldn’t stand the reminder.’

His eyes searched hers, hanging on to the understanding.

‘But anger doesn’t justify calculated mass-murder,’ she continued, a hint of her own anger flaring into her voice. ‘You hurting or being sorry will never make their deaths ok,’ she added quietly.

He looked at her silently. Had he been hoping for sympathy? For absolution? The part of her that wanted to make everything better for everyone wanted to give him that, but she knew it would be a lie.

‘This might be a good thing,’ she said, offering what comfort she could, ‘new place, fresh start. I hope it works out for you.’ 

Her wish had been sincere.

He shrugged, ‘Maybe.’

‘Thanks for trying to stop Pike from murdering me,’ she added lightly. 

‘Least I could do,’ he replied with a dull smile. 

And she squeezed his shoulder in farewell before stepping aside for Octavia.

‘Hey, dummy. I’m only half glad your stupidity didn’t get you killed.’

‘Thanks, O,’ he replied with a chuckle.

Her eyes flickered with sadness and she stepped forward, hugging him tight. 

‘Send me a postcard of your new digs. I might just come around and make sure you’re not fucking things up again,’ she said in a shaky voice.

‘Will do,’ he replied straightening up.

Lexa arrived, along with the group that was to escort them to the edge of the Coalition territories. Clarke felt her body change, come alive at her approach, skin prickling and nerves fluttering. Lexa was all Heda, stately and imperious, and everyone’s eyes turned to her when she approached. Clark was filled with the overwhelming urge to make her lose that control, to find the girl she had had last night under her regal demeanor. She was brought back from her fantasies by Lexa’s voice.

‘Today we give you your freedom. You have nothing to fear from us as long as you respect the conditions of your banishment. But break them and you will not be shown mercy a second time.’ 

Her tone left little doubt as to what would happen. 

‘May you find a new home,’ she concluded by way of farewell.

She nodded to her attendants who handed them packs of food, enough to last them a week or so. 

‘Do we get to take any weapons?’ Bellamy asked. ‘There are hostile creatures out there.’

Lexa had considered for a moment before taking a knife from one of her warriors and throwing it at his feet. He scoffed down at it, head shaking in disbelief.

‘That is more than Wanheda had when she left your camp,’ Lexa replied raising her eyebrow, the hint of a taunt in her voice. ‘I am told she thrived.’

Clarke lowered her head to hide her smile. She could feel Lexa looking at her out of the corner of her eye and knew if their eyes met she wouldn’t be able to control the grin. 

Bellamy picked up the knife grudgingly and they headed out of camp. 

They watched them disappear into the forest. Clarke waited for the crowds to thin before sidling up to Lexa.

‘Hello, Commander,’ she said, cheekily.

‘Clarke,’ Lexa replied, trying to keep a straight face. 

‘We are leaving in an hour,’ she added, trying to find something to say. ‘Are you well enough to travel?’

‘Oh, I’m quite well,’ Clarke assured her with mock earnestness. ‘I got so much rest last night,’ this with a slight raise of her eyebrows that accentuated the twinkle in her eye.

This time Lexa couldn’t control the smile which broke her lips and she looked down quickly to hide it. 

‘I am pleased to hear of it,’ she replied benevolently. ‘I will ask Raven and Octavia to pick you up. Until then, ambassador.’ 

And her eyes met Clarke’s for a brief, delicious moment before she strode off purposefully. Clarke swore she could feel her fighting the urge to look back.

\------

‘How’re you doing, Octavia?’ Clarke asks, as she watches her stare at the road.

‘I’m fine,’ she says, shrugging off the concern. She knows what Clarke is referring to. 

Clarke is expectantly silent, waiting for her to continue.

‘I mean, it’s not like he’s dead. It’s no harder to start a life outside the 13 clans than it was for us when we started here. It’ll do him some good to be away from people and their demands and politics. Besides, I don’t even know what I’m doing. Lincoln and I aren’t tied down anywhere so it’s not like we won’t see him.’

‘You’re not staying in Polis?’ 

‘Nah, it’s not for me. Indra wants me to go back to being her second, finish my training. I think I’ll do that for now. I’m just here ‘cause you to invalids can’t drive.’

She looks at Raven in the rearview mirror, seeing if she’ll take up the taunt, but she doesn’t seem to have heard. She’s distracted, eyes staring out the window. Octavia turns to see what it is and shakes her head with a smirk. 

‘Raven on the other hand, might just end up staying if you take the way she stares at her new girlfriend as any indication of her plans,’ she adds loudly enough to get Raven’s attention.

‘What?’ she snaps startled from her reverie. ‘She’s not my girlfriend,’ she counters defensively.

‘Oh, excuse me while I wipe the drool from your chin,’ Octavia shoots back.

She had been staring. Enyo was riding near her window, stripped down to her tank top, ruddy biceps glistening in the sun. She was cocky, almost lazy, in the way she straddled her horse, hands resting easily at her side as she directed it using her legs only, moving in sync with the magnificent beast. It looked like she could probably do it in her sleep. Raven’s eyes traced her muscled back and stately neck, the braids that bounced and swiveled when she turned to give Raven the occasional smirk. She felt a flush of warmth in her body, reminiscent of the way it had felt pressed up against hers for support at the Grounder camp. It had been business, but…there was something else too. She felt the ghost of her fingertips tracing her scar, thought of other scars she could trace.

‘I think you might be onto something,’ Clarke adds giddily, staring at Raven’s dreamy face.

‘Fuck off, Griffin! she retorts. ‘Just cause you’re twitterpated doesn’t mean the rest of us are.’ But the anger is all for show and Clarke sees that twinkle in her eye. 

‘Doesn’t mean you’re not either,’ Clarke concludes with a knowing smile.

\------

They arrive in Polis at dusk after an uneventful journey. Clarke feels her heart swell with joy at the sight of its iconic tower. She leans out, appreciating the sounds and smells that bring a world of memories tumbling around her. She was happy here, despite the intrigue and worry and desperation, she was happy because here was Lexa’s world, where she moved and breathed and ruled. Here they had flirted with, feared for, and comforted each other; challenged and accepted each other’s politics, while becoming dependent on their growing intimacy. This was home because this was Lexa.

They slow to a crawl as they enter the village, the riders clearing a path through the crowds for the truck to follow. The people gather around, curious to see what foreign contraption Skaikru has brought this time. But the hostility Clarke felt during her departure is gone. The atmosphere is electric, jubilant even. They greet Lexa with shouts and smiles. News of her victory must have travelled and they are eager to welcome her home. 

She watches Lexa smile as she interacts with her people. This is a new side of Heda, still strong and powerful, but benevolent and approachable, offering smiles and words that are light, gentle, or teasing. The people bask in her glow, drinking in her every gesture. Clarke feels her heart ache with love. This is the Heda Lexa wants to be. All that she’s done, all her hard, questionable decisions and ruthless acts, are for this, to see her people safe and happy and prosperous. She feels like she could watch her forever.

They stop when they near the tower and Lexa says something to Enyo who rides up to Octavia’s window.

‘There is a covered area under the tower, near where we keep the horses. You can leave the truck there. Guards will be assigned to it so there’s no need for you to stay overnight.’

‘Right,’ Octavia says with a nod, following her directions.

‘I’m all for this one, Raven,’ she says appreciatively as soon as Enyo’s out of earshot.

Raven just blushes and shoves Octavia’s headrest.

A group of attendants are waiting for them when they climb out, offering to show them to their rooms and help them prepare for the evening celebration.

‘Celebration?’ Clarke asks.

‘To celebrate the peace, Wanheda. You are the guests of honor.’

They exchange looks, wondering if their lack of honorability will be noticed. Still it feels good to be here, uncomfortable attention being the biggest problem they’ll have to face. They follow the guard upstairs, who leads them to their rooms. 

Clarke has her old room. It’s unchanged from when she was last there, her art supplies and a few knick-knacks lying around. As if Lexa had kept it for her, hoping she would come back. She bites back a wave of emotion at the thought. Despite the odds, she really had believed on some level that Clarke would return.

She wants to go find her, starting with her room, then the throne room, the training grounds. She has such an urge to see her, to feel the pressure of her touch. But she knows she’s probably swarmed by Titus and the others with matters she put off during her absence, and Clarke has no desire to add to them. 

Instead she calls for a bath and begins carefully removing the bandage. Her wound is dry and scabbing well. She can already walk much easier than before. She strips and sinks into the bath, reveling in the feel of water on her skin. She leans back and closes her eyes, letting all the tension out with a sigh. She lies there, just being, and it feels wonderful.

She only realizes she’s been there for longer than intended when a timid knock on the door has her hastily throwing on a rough towel and calling, ‘Enter.’

A handmaiden she recognizes from her stay in Polis enters. She blushes to find Clarke in her state of undress and quickly averts her eyes, staring at the floor.

‘Wanheda,’ she begins timidly, ‘Heda has requested that you join her at the feast, unless you are too tired and would prefer to rest. I am instructed to offer you food in your room if that would please you better.’

‘Nothing would please me more than to join the Commander,’ she says, noting how the handmaiden smiles a little to hear it. ‘I will dress and be down as soon as I can.’

She nods and makes to withdraw, then pauses. 

‘Would you like me to braid your hair?’ she offers hesitantly, as if a refusal would be easily accepted. 

‘I’d like that very much,’ Clarke says smiling. 

She leaves to inform Lexa of Clarke’s decision, promising to return once Clarke has had time to dress.

\------

The Grounder gathering is a sight to behold. The large courtyard, usually filled with merchants and pedestrians, has been cleared and a large bonfire roars in the center. Smaller fires line the rims on which skewers of meat are being turned. There are large tables heaped with enticing platters of food, emitting smells that make Clarke’s stomach growl. There are other booths too in which it appears games are being played, throwing, shooting, wrestling, all to the sound of cheers, jeers, and no small amount of gambling. Children are laughing and chasing each other between the crowds. It appears some form of alcoholic beverage is being served, evidenced by the raucous interactions. 

‘Some party,’ Raven exclaims, joining her on the outskirts. ‘The Grounders know where it’s at. 

Clarke smiles, ‘They sure do.’

‘You’ve gone and Groundered up yourself, haven’t you,’ Raven says, nodding appreciatively at her intricate braids. ‘Now I’m the only one left with virgin hair.’

‘You’ll break before long,’ Clarke replies with a chuckle. ‘Where’s Octavia?’

‘Saw her heading off somewhere with Lincoln. Apparently he had some old friends to introduce her to. What say you and I hit the food?’

‘Best idea you’ve had all week, and that includes the disabling warheads bit.’

A guard follows them into the crowd, which causes Raven some amusement, but Clarke is used to it by now and offers her a shrug. The Grounders are welcoming and eager to engage with them. They all know who Clarke is but she notices that Raven gets almost equal attention. Word of her exploits must’ve spread. 

‘Goddess of explosives,’ Clarke teases. 

‘Told ya,’ she says with a what-are-you-gonna-do shrug.

The Grounders are in the process of trying to convince them to try everything on the table, and they are handed heaping plates of roasted meat, vegetables, and what looks like potatoes, though not in any form Raven has seen before. Clarke is familiar with Grounder cuisine and quickly goes for her favorites. They seem mildly disappointed at this and quickly turn their attention to Raven, watching her face as she tries different ones, laughing and commenting at her reaction. Raven doesn’t disappoint, between witty appraisals and genuine appreciation, she has their hearts in minutes and Clarke smiles. She hasn’t seen her this relaxed since, well, ever.

Enyo somehow makes it through the crown and is standing at their side. She too has washed and is wearing a sleeveless white shirt that is both loose and clingy, contrasting her dark skin underneath. She’s stripped off most of her weapons, though Clarke notices a dagger still strapped to her side.

‘Wanheda, the Commander is looking for you,’ she tells Clarke respectfully. ‘She is near the main table with the other ambassadors.’

Clarke nods and sets her plate down to head in that direction. The guard looks at Raven, then at Enyo, who nods as if to say she will take over his charge, before he takes off after Clarke. Enyo’s presence seems to have an effect on the other Grounders as well, who cease their demands on Raven’s attention and give them a little room, content to watch their interactions. Raven wonders what kind of reputation Enyo has in the city as she reaches over, grabbing a bottle to pour two cups. 

‘Here,’ she says, handing one to Raven. ‘You haven’t experienced one of our celebrations until you’ve tried this brew.’

Raven hesitates for a moment, wondering how much she wants to dull her wits in an unfamiliar setting. 

‘It’s alright,’ Enyo says, stepping closer and holding out the cup. ‘We’re safe here. Everyone is high on our victory.’

‘Besides,’ she adds, leaning in so that her mouth is inches from Raven’s ear, ‘I have your back.’

Raven laughs away the shiver her nearness produces and takes the cup.

‘Cheers!’ she says, holding it up.

‘Hirst,’ Enyo replies, clinking her cup. 

She takes a sip and grimaces, eyes shutting as the strong spirit slides down her throat, producing smiles and giggles from her groupies.

‘Damn, that’s strong!’ she exclaims. 

Enyo laughs, sipping her own drink as she eyes Raven shamelessly.

‘Who is Raven kom Skaikru, goddess of screwdrivers when drunk?’ she asks mischievously. 

‘Stick around and you’ll find out,’ she says, taking another sip.

Enyo leans languidly against the table as if she intends to do just that.

\------

Clarke slows as she nears Lexa’s table, watching her as she approaches. She is conversing with someone on her left, expression light and unperturbed. She presides over the scene with a simple grace and elegance that all at once elevates and includes her. She’s dressed in a simple shirt, cut to reveal large portions of her tattooed back, and pants which cling to her body in a way that makes Clarke’s breath catch. Her fingers tingle with a desire to touch. Her hair has been rebraided in an intricate style which sets her apart as Heda. She seems to sense Clarke’s presence, and turns, greeting her with a smile. Clarke is struck with the force of her beauty, eyes aglow in the firelight. It’s as if everything else is a muddled, hazy background contrasting her stunning features. Her body urges her forward, willing her to close the distance between them, not to stop until they are pressed together. It takes all her strength to leave a respectable distance between them.

‘I didn’t know if you’d come,’ Lexa says, voice soft and low. ‘You missed my speech.’

‘Oh, what did our wise Heda say?’ she asks with barely a tease.

‘The usual,’ Lexa replies with a shrug, ‘extolling Wanheda for her bravery and wisdom, her friends for their strength and cunning; inviting Polis to join me in welcoming them and the rest of Skaikru back into the Coalition.’

Clarke smiles at the not-so-indirect compliments.

‘There were some words honoring the dead and reassuring those who are mourning that justice was done,’ she adds, growing serious.

‘I’m very sorry I missed it,’ Clarke replies inching nearer so that their fingers brush together. 

She feels a tremor start in Lexa’s hand where she touched it and ripple through her body. Lexa looks down quickly and bites her lip. Clarke is once again thrown by the responsiveness of her body. To be this desired is intoxicating.

‘Have you eaten?’ Lexa asks, as if trying to think of something suitable to say under the circumstances. 

Dozens of eyes are on them, drinking in their interaction. Clarke knows whatever passes between Heda and Wanheda is bound to be the talk of Polis and the clans beyond. 

‘Raven and I sampled some of the spread,’ she replies.

‘Try this,’ she says, and picks up a small reddish fruit. ‘I don’t think you’ve had these before. It’s one of my favorites. They grew in the forest near my home,’ she adds with a shy smile.

Clarke is about to take it from her hand when Lexa reaches up after a moment’s hesitation to place it in her mouth. She is almost too distracted from the brush of her fingers on her lips to savor the fruit but the explosion of taste makes her close her eyes in pleasure. It’s tangy and sweet and fresh and she lets out a little sigh of pleasure before opening her eyes to find Lexa staring at her, mouth curled in joy at her pleasure.

‘That’s delicious!’ Clarke says. ‘You must have eaten basketfuls of them growing up,’ she adds in a whisper, and Lexa blushes, catching her meaning.

A group of musicians start up a merry tune and the people soon hurry to take up their positions in a choreographed dance. Clarke watches as hardened warriors become lithe and graceful as they move, smiles playing on their faces. The children too, join in. It seems everyone knows the steps. 

She leans close to Lexa and asks, ‘Don’t you dance?’

Lexa tilts her jaw and replies, ‘Heda does not dance.’

‘Does Lexa?’ Clarke quips with a raise of her eyebrow.

‘Perhaps,’ Lexa replies, once again suppressing a grin. 

‘So many mysteries yet to solve,’ Clarke says with mock exasperation.

And Lexa gives her a full smile this time.

\------

They move to walk around the camp, Lexa keeping a slow pace, ever mindful of Clarke’s leg; pausing to explain the various traditional games and activities. They walk close, the air electric between them, the occasional brush of a hand or leg setting them on fire. It’s the most delicious dance Clarke has ever had, the teasing, the restraint, the desire brimming, bursting, yearning. How can one person bring out so much in her while doing so little?

‘Raven seems to be enjoying herself,’ Lexa points out with a tilt of her head.

She’s standing at one of the knife throwing booths. Lexa explains that traditionally one person challenges another and the winner makes one request of the loser that cannot be denied. Usually it’s something silly in the merriment, a jig, a dare, a drink. Enyo is with her and appears to be demonstrating the optimal stance. Clarke watches her place her hands on Raven’s hips positioning her, the way Raven leans in to listen. Octavia might just have been right.

‘Turn your body like this,’ Enyo explains, taking hold of her hips and moving her herself without waiting for her to move. ‘Lean on your left leg as much as you can, the propulsion comes from your right.’

Raven grins at the word propulsion, pretty certain it wasn’t in Enyo’s vocabulary a week ago.

‘Raise your arm, elbow level with your shoulder,’ she continues, placing a hand on Raven’s bicep to direct her. 

Normally Raven would have shrugged her off. She hates when people assume she needs help following instructions. But somehow it doesn’t feel like Enyo has any doubt her instructions are being understood. It’s more like she’s using them as an excuse to touch her, and Raven, tipsy from the strong Grounder brew, allows it, welcomes it even.

‘Keep your wrist firm when you bring your hand down,’ she concludes, ‘or the knife will spin off course.’

Raven nods to show she’s got it and Enyo steps back. She brings her arm down firmly, almost losing her balance due to her bad leg. The knife flies, hitting the outer rim of the mark.

‘Not bad,’ Enyo remarks, and Raven flushes with pride.

She tries a few more, nearing the mark with each one, until a tall, broad warrior steps from the crowd. 

‘I think it’s time for a challenge,’ he bellows in a jolly tone, drawing near.

‘Off with you, Erestus,’ Enyo says with a shake of her head. ‘She just got it down.’

‘What better time to start then?’ Erestus replies, turning to the crowd to garner support. ‘This is a gaming stand is it not?’

‘I’ll throw against you,’ Raven says, with a shrug, never one to pass up a challenge.

Enyo looks about to protest when she adds, ‘What’s the worst that can happen?’

Erestus applauds her acceptance.

‘The Skai girl has spirit! No wonder she masters their weapons,’ he announces approvingly, and Raven realizes he knows exactly who she is.

He nods, indicating that she should throw first. She takes her stance carefully, aims, and lets the knife fly. It’s her best throw yet, landing in the second ring just wide of the bulls eyes. The crowd cheers.

‘Nicely done,’ Erestus says sincerely.

He takes his own position, aims, and the knife whizzes through the air, hitting the center circle, slightly to the left of the middle. He receives even more fervent applause as he bows to the crowd. 

‘And now,’ he says, facing Raven, ‘it’s time for my request.’

She meets his eyes with a steady, challenging gaze, her lips curling slightly as if he could ask nothing too scary of her.

‘A kiss!’ he bellows, and Raven thinks the sour scowl on Enyo’s face is her new favorite thing.

‘Are you sure?’ she asks him matter-of-factly. ‘There are stories about what happens to boys when I kiss them.’

The crowd whoops and catcalls.

‘I’m not a boy,’ Erestus replies, drawing himself to his full stature. 

‘Have it your way,’ Raven says.

She draws near, under Enyo’s glare, straining her neck up as he lowers his head, lips pursed in anticipation, which turns into a frown of disappointment when she tactfully avoids them, placing a kiss on his cheek instead. The crowd roars with laughter.

‘That’s not what I meant,’ he growls turning red.

‘You didn’t specify,’ Raven replies with an innocent shrug, and the crowd rules in her favor.

‘Come, Erestus,’ Enyo calls. ‘Why not throw against someone who has been doing it for more than 5 minutes.’

He is happy to oblige her and they take their positions. Erestus goes first. He is more serious this time, deep in concentration, and the crowd falls silent to watch. The knife flies smoothly once more, hitting almost the exact same spot as last time. The onlookers cheer.

‘Well played,’ Enyo concedes. ‘But you always bear left. I have told you this before.’

‘Less talking, more throwing,’ he shoots back good-naturedly.

Enyo takes her stance, focused, and Raven appreciates how the muscles in her arms and back ripple when she tenses them in anticipation, how the position amplifies her shapely behind. She doesn’t see the knife fly from her hand, only looking up when it hits the board, snug against Erestus’s, dead center.

The crowd goes wild. She’s obviously no stranger to these circles.

‘Well then, Erestus, it’s my turn to make a request,’ she announces.

‘Let’s have it then,’ he grumbles, ‘what do you want this time?’

‘I want you to go over to Janne and tell her how you think of her every bleeding night in your tent when you are away.’

His face pales at this dare. 

‘But Enyo, that is no game. Tell me to dance naked and I will gladly do it.’

‘And we will be scarred for life. I have far too much sympathy for the good people of Polis to allow that. Go on then. It’s about time she knew.’

His eyes plead with her for a moment before he sighs in resignation, grudgingly rising and making his way over to a beautiful woman talking animatedly with a group of friends. She smiles slightly at his approach, listens to his words and blushes deeply. But her smile tells Raven his words were welcome.

‘Well played, Cupid,’ Raven says to Enyo.

‘I couldn’t very much have him continue asking you for kisses, could I?’ and the hint of protective jealousy in her voice makes Raven’s stomach tense.

\------

‘I’d better watch out or she’ll be running the place in no time,’ Lexa says to Clarke in light of Raven’s obvious popularity amongst the Grounders, but her smile tells her that she too is happy to see Raven enjoying herself.

Clarke spies Octavia a ways away. Her hand is in Lincoln’s and they move giddily off the dance floor and through the crowd, bodies in tune, pressing, teasing, touching, flirting. It would appear they’ve managed to steal away from Lincoln’s friends and are making their way to a more private spot. It’s great to see them here. Lincoln no longer banned, Octavia free to be Octavia. Happy. But she’s hit with a twinge of envy at their liberty to openly paw at each other, no eyes on them. No duties. Clarke looks over at Lexa who is exchanging a few words with someone she doesn’t recognize. She waits until they leave before moving close behind her.

‘How long is the Commander expected to stay at one of these celebrations?’ she says in a low voice which suggests there are so many better things to be done.

She’s close, pressed up nearly against Lexa’s shoulder so that her breath prickles her neck, thrilling at the shiver that goes down Lexa’s spine.

‘Traditionally,’ she replies turning to face Clarke with a look that makes it nearly impossible for Clarke to focus on her words, ‘until just before the debauchery begins.’

Clarke looks at her lips, full and seductive, begging to be kissed, and bites her own, thinking of the debauchery she’d like to begin.

‘Judging by the music,’ Lexa says, pulling her attention back to her eyes, ‘should be soon enough.’

‘Good. It’s been a while since I’ve been here. I’m not sure I can find my room on my own,’ Clarke says, staring back at her lips, wondering what would happen if she just kissed her right here.

Lexa seems to read her thoughts. Her eyes bore into her, dark, adoring, wanton. 

‘You have had a couple drinks. It wouldn’t do to have you wandering into the wrong room, Clarke. I shall escort you myself,’ she replies coyly.

Lexa is right about the time. It isn’t long before she signals to her guards and they make their way back to the tower. Clarke is tense in the elevator, feeling her close, feeling Lexa’s own impatient tension, but the two guards standing in front of them discourage any messing around. It’s not as if they won’t see them enter the same room, but there are certain formalities to be observed in public.

Nevertheless Clarke feels Lexa’s hand curl behind her, pressing into the small of her back, fingers light and trembling. The elevator continues up slowly as the crank is turned, and Clarke feels like they’re suspended in space. Their eyes stare at the floor as Lexa’s hand teases her shirt up, reaching for skin. Clarke lets out a little breath when she finds it and traces a shuddering path across her goosebumps. Lexa bites down on her lip to stop a sound from escaping her mouth, and Clarke is left with heady imaginations of what it was.

The finally reach the top floor and Clarke makes no show of going to her room. Lexa nods curtly at the guards when they reach her door and they turn to stand outside, their faces emotionless masks. Whatever they might be thinking they are well able to keep it to themselves. She turns away from them, facing Clarke who has moved to the middle of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for ending it here. chapters 7 & 8 were originally meant to be one chapter but i got a little carried away with the sap. i'll try & post the last 1 tomo so you don't hv to wait too long


	8. Breathe

They are suddenly shy. Despite the shameless flirting all evening, it’s different now that they’re alone. Lexa holds her breath as she looks at Clarke, eyes roaming her curvaceous form, lingering on her hips, her breasts, trailing up her neck, her lips, imagining the paths her tongue would like to take, finally meeting her eyes, drinking in the sight of her as if she is the one thing she’s always wanted.

Clarke smiles under her gaze, unabashed at the attention, basking in her desire. She motions with her head and Lexa moves to stand in front of her.

‘Hi,’ she whispers, reaching out to touch the palm of Clarke’s hand. Her fingers are light and gentle, pressing into her palm. It’s soft and intimate and Clarke feels warmth spread through her body.

‘Hi, yourself,’ she replies softly, teasing Lexa’s nose with her own.

She brushes her lips against hers, lightly; feeling Lexa’s mouth part in desire. She pauses, breathing her in, before closing the distance, pressing her lips into Lexa’s. Her body erupts with the feeling of the kiss. Clarke thought she knew what to expect, had kissed her several times by now, but it always took her by surprise; the rush of feelings flooding through her wanting to possess and consume. She slips her tongue through Lexa’s parting lips and a fresh wave shudders through her.

She can tell Lexa feels the same as she snakes a hand around her waist and pulls them together, pressing her body into her, lips trembling, tongue teasing, moving in ways that send a rush of desire between Clarke’s thighs. She bites Lexa’s bottom lip hungrily, tasting her, releasing a sharp gasp from Lexa’s throat. 

‘Wait,’ Lexa says, breathlessly pulling away from her lips. ‘We have time. I want to savor you.’

Clarke smiles at the choice of words; looking at Lexa’s lips, red and swollen from kissing; thinking she wants them everywhere. She wraps her arms around Lexa’s waist, kissing her neck, sucking, tasting. A bite beneath her ear makes Lexa draw in breath sharply and Clarke can feel her leg trembling despite her attempts at control.

‘The things I’m gonna make you do, Lexa kom Trikru,’ Clarke murmurs in her ear.

Lexa shudders and bites down on her shoulder.

‘You could make me do anything tonight, Clarke,’ she confesses in a shaky whisper, and Clarke decides to take full advantage of the situation.

She pulls back so that only their hands are touching. Lexa looks at her expectantly, waiting for her to take the lead.

‘I want to see you,’ Clarke says and begins to lift her shirt. 

Lexa reaches to touch her stomach while she does so, but she pushes her hands away and Lexa understands what she wants. Clarke pulls her shirt over her head, pausing to take in the sight of her. Her elegant shoulders—slender yet muscled—exposed collarbones, firm stomach which seems to contract under Clarke’s gaze. Her eyes meet Lexa’s as she shakes her head in admiration, and Lexa bites her bottom lip, flustered at the attention. Clarke reaches to undo her breastband, feeling the goosebumps spread on Lexa’s skin where her fingers brush it. She unwraps it a little more quickly, impatient to get it off. She’s not disappointed. Lexa’s breasts are perfect, round and luscious, nipples pink and hard, begging to be touched, licked, sucked. Clarke pokes her tongue out at the sight, holding back until she’s finished what she started. 

Her hand traces lightly down Lexa’s chest, between her breasts, caressing her abdomen and she moves in to place another kiss on Lexa’s lips. Lexa kisses back, hungrily. Clarke can tell she’s dying to speed things along, barely restraining herself to allow Clarke her exploration. She releases her lips and moves behind her, kissing Lexa’s shoulder, as she moves to caress her back, fingers teasing the outline of her tattoo. She moves her hair aside so she can kiss the back of her neck and feels Lexa shiver and press her body back against her. She smiles and reaches for her waist to undo the ties on her pants. The positon allows her to hold Lexa close, arms around her as she tries figure out how to get them loose. She feels Lexa smile as she leans into her, amused at her fumbling attempts and gives her a reproachful bite to the shoulder. 

Her pants are finally loose and Clarke slides them down, slowly revealing her beautiful ass. Lexa feels her pause and helps by kicking off her boots and stepping out of the pants herself. Clarke presses into her, hips tight against Lexa’s ass as her hands trace her thighs, her hips, her stomach, finding scars and soft, smooth skin, teasing close to her undershorts. Lexa’s skin tingles as she moves her body in sync with Clarke’s. Clarke loves her responsiveness, how every little touch elicits gasps and sighs. She nuzzles into her neck and Lexa reaches back to cup her head, pulling her closer. Clarke’s fingers move between her legs, and it’s her turn to moan when she feels the wetness soaking through her underwear. Lexa’s breath catches at the pressure and Clarke moves to slip them off, following them down her long, shapely legs. She reaches back up, teasing her inner thighs, but Lexa’s hand reaches down to stop her. 

‘You too,’ she says turning, and Clarke is happy to oblige. 

But her own disrobing is much more unceremonious. She pulls off her top herself and Lexa reaches to undo her bra, face twisting in adorable confusion as she fumbles with the unfamiliar clasp behind her back. Clarke lets her struggle for a few moments, enjoying the furrow in her brows and twitching of her lips, before reaching back and undoing it herself, tossing it aside.

Lexa freezes, overwhelmed at the sight of Clarke, mesmerized by her full, gorgeous breasts. She still can’t believe Clarke is here, in her room, bare and beautiful. She’s momentarily paralyzed. Years of repression, of teaching herself not to feel, have buried them deep and she doesn’t know what to do with the rush of emotion that floods her now. Clarke sees the uncertainty in her eyes and pulls her in again. Lexa comes alive when their skin touches, nipples pressing against each other as Clarke captures her mouth in a kiss. A tear streams down her cheek and she kisses desperately back. Clarke slips a leg between Lexa’s, groaning when she feels Lexa’s wetness paint her thigh. She pulls back to impatiently remove her own pants, craving the feel of Lexa against her skin.

She maneuvers them to the bed, easing on top of Lexa. She kisses her jaw lightly before moving down her neck, stomach tightening when Lexa’s neck tilts back in pleasure as she sucks on her pressure point. Clarke realizes she’s trying to be quiet and she feels the urge to make her lose control. She moves down, cupping her breast while her tongue draws a slow, teasing circle around her nipple. Lexa’s body tenses, hovering in anticipation. Clarke flicks her tongue against it before encircling it complete in her mouth. She bites it gently, drawing a delicious whimper from Lexa’s lips. Humming appreciatively at the sound, she moves to the other breast, sucking, teasing, feeling Lexa’s hips beginning to move beneath her, searching for contact. 

She leaves her breasts and draws a lazy line down her stomach with her tongue, appreciating the taut muscles pulsing under her mouth. Lexa’s breath catches and she lets out a shuddering moan as one of Clarkes nipples drags through her opening and brushes her clit. Clarke too, shivers at the contact, the feel of Lexa’s wetness on her nipple. She repeats the movement, slowly, deliberately, and watches the beautiful arch of Lexa’s body as she presses her head back in pleasure. She moves down, sucking her desire into Lexa’s hip before tracing her tongue on the dip that leads to her center. She moves to the side, nibbling Lexa’s inner thighs, feeling her legs clench in desire. 

‘Clarke,’ comes the husky, strangled whisper. It’s a plea as she tries to pull Clarke back up level to her. 

Clarke takes her hands, pinning them firmly to her side.

‘I wanna taste you,’ Clarke says in a breathy voice. 

Lexa shivers to hear her desire. Her legs part in surrender and Clarke scoots down, hovering close, teasing Lexa’s clit with her warm breath, watching her stomach pull at the feeling. Then she places her tongue at her opening and drags it along the length of her, pulling a long, shuddering moan from Lexa’s lips. She’s dripping in desire and Clarke revels in the taste of her, going back for a long, slow pass. Her lips are swollen, parted, soft and slick and delicious, and Clarke feels her own desire soak her panties. Lexa’s hands tangle in her hair and she reaches up to find her nipple pinching just a little hard as her tongue reaches her clit. Lexa gasps in pleasure, arching her hips to meet Clarke’s mouth. Her clit is bare and swollen, all nerves and quivering desire. Clarke traces slow, lazy circles around it, feeling the pleasure ripple through Lexa’s body. She sucks the whole thing into her mouth, tongue flicking against it, and Lexa releases another beautiful moan, hips bucking against Clarke’s face. Clarke hums at the sound, which only makes Lexa’s fingers involuntarily pull at her hair as she presses her closer. 

Clarke keeps up a steady rhythm, bringing Lexa to the edge of release, then gently releases her clit, eliciting a little groan of disappointment. The first few times were rushed, she wants to make this last as long as possible, test her boundaries, layer on wave after wave of desire before pushing her over the edge. She moves back down to her opening and Lexa’s breath hitches again as she angles her hips, trying to draw Clarke in deeper. Clarke moves her hands under her, raising her as she slides the tip of her tongue insider her. Lexa gasps again, moving her foot to rest against Clarke’s ass, heel pressing into her left cheek. Clarke lets out a quivering breath, which sends a fresh ripple of pleasure through Lexa’s body. She swirls her tongue slowly as Lexa’s hips move to meet her, rocking into her tongue. She feels her nearing the edge again and pulls out, pausing for a moment, just long enough for Lexa to pull impatiently at her with her leg. 

When she still doesn’t continue Lexa tilts her chin, looking down to meet her eyes. Clarke is struck again by her beauty, lips parted and panting, eyes dark and absent, lost in pleasure, small droplets of sweat glistening on the taught curves of her skin. Clarke holds her eyes steadily as she lowers her head again, not breaking contact as she once more encircles her clit. She watches Lexa gasp as her eyes roll back in pleasure. She reaches up with her fingers, testing her opening before slipping one inside. Lexa lets out a little cry as her head tries to jerk back to release the pressure, but she keeps it steady, eyes locked on Clarke’s. Clarke pulls her finger back out, tongue quivering on her clit, she can feel Lexa hovering at the edge, feel her tension, anticipation. Clarke drinks it in, feeling it in her body. She could come just watching her.

She slips two fingers inside her this time, slowly, testing the stretch, savoring every quiver of Lexa’s inner muscles as they press against her. Lexa lets out another cry, heel digging into Clarke’s flesh. Clarke slowly increases the rhythm, tongue circling her clit as her fingers thrust, curling to find the spot that will push her over the edge. Lexa’s hand reaches down, fumbling for Clarke’s and Clarke reaches up with her free hand to grab it, nearly losing control at the grip of Lexa’s fingers. A few more deliberate thrusts and she’s there. Clarke feels her hips buckle, watches her eyes lose focus as her back arches, stomach pulling, hand squeezing hers desperately. She slows her pace, giving her a few more thrusts and flicks of her tongue to draw it out as long as possible, pressing her own legs together to keep from coming herself.

Lexa comes down slowly, growing limp, silent. Then Clarke hears her take in a desperate, gasping breath and smiles, pressing kisses into her mound, fingers tracing patterns through the wetness on her thighs. Lexa’s hand flutters again, reaching for her, and Clarke moves up, pressing the length of her body into Lexa’s as she draws level with her face. She’s so beautiful like this! Soft and relaxed after her moment of surrender. Clarke feels her heart melt inside her. Lexa looks at her in awe before pressing a long, slow kiss into her lips. 

‘You’re amazing,’ she whispers, still not completely recovers from her orgasm.

Clarke smiles, heart bursting. To see Lexa like this, happy, relaxed, breathless with pleasure, it’s…it’s everything. She shifts on top of her and Lexa hums in appreciation as her slick pussy presses into her thigh. Clarke smiles, unabashed. 

‘You drive me crazy,’ she whispers proudly.

‘Let me have you,’ Lexa replies huskily, pulling Clarke upwards.

Clarke gets her meaning. Lexa shifts down in the bed and Clarke moves up, straddling her shoulders, careful not to put pressure on her wound. Lexa looks up at her, enthralled by the curve of her hips, her tense stomach and beautiful breasts. She catches Clarke watching her, smirking at her stare. She reaches up to touch her, tracing light patterns on her belly. Clarke begins slowly gyrating her hips, bringing her close to Lexa’s mouth but not close enough. Lexa can see her, smell her, mouth quivering to taste her. She reaches up but Clarke is still just impishly out of reach. 

Lexa groans hungrily and grabs her ass, pulling her into her lips. Clarke gasps at the contact. Lexa’s tongue is skilled and eager, teasing moans of pleasure from her lips. Lexa watches her face, sees the pleasure in her eyes as she runs her tongue through her, savoring her. Clarke moves her hips against her, but she’s already had to hold on for too long and she won’t last much longer. Lexa’s tongue is soft and firm and Clarke feels herself coming undone against her. She anchors her fingers into Lexa’s hair, riding her a little more roughly. 

She feels Lexa’s moan quivering against her, feels her pressing her legs together behind her. She can’t resist slipping her hand between Lexa’s thighs and gasps to find her dripping wet again. Lexa parts her thighs as Clarke begins to stroke her clit. Her own pleasure makes her suck harder, watching Clarke’s breasts rise as her back arches, head thrown back in pleasure. Clarke holds on until she feels Lexa nearing the edge again, before climaxing with a long, shuddering moan, the sound pushing Lexa over the edge with her. 

They hold their positions, breathing heavily as they both come down from their orgasms. Clarke carefully lifts off of her and curls into her side, arm reaching around her waist as Lexa snakes a leg around hers pulling her close. Lexa kisses her gently, hand playing with Clarke’s messy braids, caressing her forehead. Clarke draws little patterns on her lower back. They lay there sleepily, too tired for words. Lexa pulls a blanket over their naked bodies as they begin to doze off. 

‘You’re the best thing that could’ve happened to me,’ she whispers, unsure if Clarke is still awake to hear it.

Clarke smiles without opening her eyes and presses a kiss to the tip of her nose.

They fall asleep still bathed in the afterglow.

\------

Lexa awakes a few hours later to the sound of crashing thunder and the wind howling through the tower. A tickle to her nose makes her look down and she smiles at the blond strand teasing her face. Clarke’s body is flush with heat, pressed close into hers. She watches as a flash of lightening illuminates her bare shoulder, following the slope of it up her neck. 

Clarke kom Skaikru is in her bed! 

She smiles incredulously at the thought. She thinks of the war and all that has passed, flashes of the fire in Clarke’s eyes, her unwavering determination to find a better way, always trying, always fighting, always doing whatever is necessary. She begins to stroke her lightly with the tip of her fingers, running them reverently across her skin. She is such a beautiful creature! Lexa is enamored with every rise and curve of her body, wants to spend the rest of her life exploring it. She examines the claw-shaped mark beneath her left shoulder, tracing it gently with her lips, wondering at the story that lays behind it. 

She thinks of that first day in her tent, ages ago. The way Clarke had walked in. Something naively ferocious about her, thinking she could stop the inevitable, she could just ask and they would have peace. Thinking of how she had stared down Indra and Gustus, promising things that seemed like magic. Lexa had shuddered to meet her eyes, seeing the strength that cannot be taught mingled with desperate hope. And pain. There was the permanent longing of loss there too that Lexa recognized instantly. She had been lost from that moment and everything Clarke had done had steadily chipped away at the frost around her heart leaving her bare and exposed. It had been the most terrifying feeling she’d had since losing Costia. But now, she felt warm. And happy! Clarke kom Skaikru made her so giddily happy. 

She moved to caress her stomach, enjoying her softness. She’s so warm, snuggled against Lexa in the storm. Lexa finds all sleep gone from her as she traces long, light patterns across her skin, feeling the gentle rise of her hips, the flutter of her stomach as she breathes deeply, sleepily, not a care in the world. She brushes her hair aside and nuzzles her neck feeling like she’s home. Clarke is the only thing in her whole life that ever fully felt like home. 

She parts her lips, pressing a kiss into Clarke’s neck, tasting her skin. She loves the taste of her! It’s like nothing she can describe, salty and warm and personal, simply the most delicious thing! Her teeth brush against Clarke’s skin as she smiles, and she freezes when a little moan escapes Clarke’s lips.

She’s not sure if she really heard it, the storm is loud now, rain slashing against the building, and it could just have been her over-stimulated imagination. But she noticed that Clarke’s stomach is still under her hand, no longer rising and falling with the breath of sleep. The space between them is suddenly humming with electricity. 

Lexa presses her nose into Clarke’s neck again, controlling her breathing in case she’s mistaken. Her hand flutters across her stomach and up to find her left breast. She only half swallows her gasp at finding Clarke’s nipple already hardened. She cups her breasts gently before giving it the slightest pinch, this time the moan from Clarke’s lips is unmistakable and she feels the wetness leap between her own thighs as a response. She presses herself more firmly into Clarke before moving down again, hands slipping gently between Clarke’s legs. She groans when she feels her slick with desire, lips already swollen and parted. Clarke hums deliciously in response to her touch. 

Lexa shifts, pushing Clarke flat on her back and slipping on top of her, a thigh between her legs. Clarke releases a shuddering breath and reaches out to touch her, but Lexa takes her hands and pins them gently above her head with just enough pressure to keep her firmly in place. Clarke lets out a moan of pleasure at being pinned down and Lexa thinks this is something worth exploring at a later date. But she is gentle now, watching Clarke’s body awaken to the pleasure she offers. She pushes down against her, pumping slowly and deliberately, pressed fully into Clarke’s. Clarke’s eyes search hers, dark with desire, her lips parting in pleasure as Lexa hits the spot. 

She raises her thigh, pressing it against Lexa and she freezes for a moment as pleasure courses through her. They find a steady rhythm, bodies moving in sync, eyes focused, drinking in each other. Lexa continues to pin Clarke’s hands to the bed with one of hers as she slips the one between them, whimpering as she feels just how wet Clarke is. Clarke lifts her hips again and she slips two fingers into her without even a stretch. Clarke freezes, feeling her inside her, afraid to move lest it send her over the edge. It’s Lexa who moves, slowly drawing her fingers back to the opening before pushing against her hand with her thigh, thrusting deep into Clarke. Clarke’s lets out a half-cry which rivals the crashing storm, and Lexa presses her forehead against hers so she can catch the rest of her strangled breathes. 

She thrusts again, feeling her whole body quiver, back arching as Clarke’s hands fight for freedom, but Lexa holds her steady, anchoring her, and Clarke is surprised and excited by her strength. She lifts her body, pressing it into Lexa’s, relishing the slick feel of Lexa rubbing against her thigh. Lexa bites into her neck at the added pressure and it pushes Clarke over the edge, body tensing and rising as waves of pleasure course through her. It takes only a few more grinds for Lexa to join her in ecstasy.

She lets her body fall into Clarke’s as they both breathe heavily, listening to the rain pour around them. Lexa gently releases her arms and shifts next to her, covering whatever skin is in reach with soft, happy kisses. 

‘I love how you fuck me!’ Clarke exclaims breathlessly, and Lexa flushes with pride as she presses a smile into her shoulder. They way Clarke says fuck is delicious and Lexa is transported back to the action itself.

‘I love fucking you,’ she confesses quietly, in a way that makes Clarke think she has never said the word out loud before. It’s so adorably prudish that Clarke turns and kisses her full, smiling lips.

‘You know, you’re not so good at this whole sleeping business,’ Clarke teases.

‘You are very difficult to sleep next to, Clarke,’ she says matter-of-factly, eyes closing again.

Clarke wraps her in her arms, pulling her close to ward off the chill coming from the open window, thinking that the sound of her name spoken by those beautiful lips is what she lives for.

\------

The storm had started suddenly, causing those in the still in the bustling courtyard to hurry under whatever shelter they could find, melting into the huts and houses surrounding it. Raven and Enyo had been at the furthest end of the courtyard and decided to duck into a large, open-sided tent that had been put up for the celebration and wait for it to pass. But after 15 minutes the lightening streaked across the sky with greater frequency and the rain poured down in torrents with little sign of letting up. 

‘I guess we better get ready to wait,’ Raven said.

Enyo had set about clearing a spot on the table and bunching together some old cloaks they could use to rest their heads on. Raven heaved herself up with a relieved sigh, stretching her leg awkwardly, trying to get a handle on the pain that throbbed through it. She had been on her feet for hours and the pain was unforgiving. Enyo hoisted herself up next to her. They lay back, heads close as they lean into the makeshift pillow, listening to the rain beat against the tent. It’s oddly soothing, being surrounded by noise.

‘Does it always hurt,’ Enyo asks softly.

‘Yeah, pretty much,’ Raven says. ‘It’s nerve damage.’

Enyo’s puzzled expression tells her her words are meaningless, but rather than shrug it off she explains.

‘We have nerves all over the body, like messengers, telling our brains what we feel; pain, pleasure, hot, cold. It’s all up her,’ she says gesturing towards her head. ‘My nerves are fucked, meaning they always tell my brain my leg is hurting when it’s really just being useless.’

Enyo nods, taking the information in.

‘Isn’t there anything to be done?’ she asks at last.

Raven shrugs.

‘Not really. Abby said they had nerve blockers which stops the nerves from specific regions from sending messages to the brain, but that’s only a temporary solution. Sometimes nerve regeneration works, but we don’t have the medical equipment for that. I just have to toughen up and deal,’ she says with a forced smile. 

Enyo brushes her fingers across her leg slightly. Raven feels a flutter low in her stomach at the touch. Enyo is quiet, face unreadable in the dark.

‘I know a place,’ she says at last, ‘used to play there as a child. It looked like some old medical facility with books and equipment like you have in Arkadia. Maybe there’s something there. I could take you if you want.’

Raven feels a little smile pull at her lips at the offer.

‘A lot of the equipment looked broken,’ Enyo continues when her offer is met with silence, ‘but that should make it even more fun for you.’

‘That’d be awesome,’ Raven replies. ‘I mean, I have to get back to Arkadia eventually, those idiots don’t know a screwdriver from a wrench, but they can chase their own tails for a few more days.’

She feels Enyo smile at her acceptance and reaches down for the hand still gently pressed against her leg. She entwines her own fingers in it and Enyo rubs her thumb lightly over her knuckle. They lie there in silence, enjoying the sounds and smell of the storm, the warmth of their bodies almost touching, bathed in the heady anticipation of what might be.

\------

Clarke is awakened by warm sunlight caressing her face. She smiles, soaking it in, reveling in the satisfaction that fills her body. She feels good! She lies there with her eyes closed for a few minutes basking in the warmth of her own body, the light, tingling feeling that she’s already grown addicted to. She rolls over, reaching for Lexa to draw her close, only to find her side of the bed empty. She lets out a little groan of disappointment, opening her eyes to make sure that her skin isn’t just playing tricks on her. 

She is indeed alone. She buries her head in Lexa’s pillow, taking in her scent, and smiles at the thought of her, her mind replaying the events of last night, Lexa’s whimpers and moans and sighs teasing her imagination. 

The sounds coming from the open window stir her and she eventually sits up. She is glad to see that her leg seems to be healing well despite last night’s activities and decides it can wait to be treated. She stretches catlike, savoring the sun on her bare skin, and walks over to Lexa’s dressing area where she finds a light cloak. Wrapping it haphazardly around her frame she steps onto the balcony, walking to the edge to peer down into the city. It must be nearing 10 am, judging by the sun, and the city is slowly coming to life, a bit later than usual after the festivities that stretched into the wee hours. The sun is glistening off of thousands of tiny droplets left from the storm and she sighs in delight, wishing she had her art supplies her to paint it. She stands there, watching, hoping she’ll remember for later.

‘It is always beautiful after a storm.’

The soft voice behind her almost makes her jump. Lexa is sitting with her back against the wall, watching Clarke with an amused smile, legs crossed in front of her as if she had been meditating. Lexa is gorgeous in the sunlight, hair loose and soft.

Lexa had been watching for a while, taking in the sight of Clarke’s bare, sun-kissed legs, watching the cloak rise to reveal the curve of her ass as she angled over to find a better position. Her hair was even more golden in the sunlight and Lexa felt only the slightest pang of guilt at seeing her mark on her neck. Clarke was so light here, untouched by the burdens that had weighed on her since they first met.

‘I thought you were gone, carried off to take care of some pressing Commander duties,’ Clarke says, taking a step towards her.

Lexa shakes her head slowly. ‘I told Titus I am not to be disturbed this morning.’

‘In that case…’Clarke smiles mischievously, climbing into Lexa’s lap.

Lexa lets out a little gasp when Clarke wraps her legs around her and she realizes she is wearing nothing under the cloak. She looks into her eyes adoringly and Clarke gently rubs the back of her hand against her cheek. She leans down, kissing her softly, a kiss that speaks of all the passion and emotion that fills her being and makes Lexa’s heart thunder in reply.

‘I love you, Lexa’ Clarke whispers softly when they break away, eyes holding Lexa’s so she’ll know how much she means it. 

‘I love you, Clarke,’ Lexa replies huskily, voice cracking with emotion.

Her hands reach up to grab Clarke’s ass, bringing her into her as her lips find her again. The kiss is bolder, passionate and possessive, fueled by the verbal admission of what their eyes and bodies have long been shouting. Clarke sheds the cloak, letting the sun glisten off her bare skin and thinks how happy she is that Lexa decided to live on the top floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Et voilà!  
> Have to say, I'm pretty sad to be saying good-bye to this fic. Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.
> 
> You can drop in on my [tumblr](http://i-like-heda.tumblr.com/) if you feel so inclined.


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